


Weigh Us Down (We're In Love)

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (but just a bit of the body worship), (so much fluff i'm puking glitter over the shoes harry wore to snl), Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Bottom Harry, Fluff, Growing Up Together, M/M, Mpreg, Mpreg Harry, Pregnant Sex, Top Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-07 03:20:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1883205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry’s eyes widen slightly at that. “We’re friends?”</p><p>Louis nods eagerly, smiling even wider. “Of course we are! You’re like, my first ever friend here. We just moved in, you see. Did I already tell you about that? Anyway! Maybe you can stay for dinner and I can show you my toys?”</p><p>Harry smiles. “You’ll let me play with you?”</p><p>Louis nods again, excited. “Of course!” He looks thoughtful for a moment, and then he’s slipping off the couch and crouching in front of Harry. “Oh, and Mum always kisses my wounds after she fixes them up. It makes me feel loads better all the time, so.” He leans forward and puckers his lips, pressing them over the bandage on Harry’s knee.</p><p> </p><p>(harry and louis first meet when they’re eight and ten. this is their story throughout the years.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weigh Us Down (We're In Love)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [samimnot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/samimnot/gifts).



> I’ll name the three wonderful people I have to thank once authors are revealed.
> 
> The prompt I followed for this fic is mainly ‘growing up together,’ but I’ve decided to throw in a bit of prompts 1, 4, and 5 in there, too (thus the mpreg). I hope the person I wrote this for will be satisfied with what I’ve come up with! It turned out to be a massive fluff fest with loads of feels, but the good kind—and with all the drama that comes with being in this fandom, I honestly think we can all use happy fluffy times, haha.
> 
> Lastly, the title and lyrics at the beginning and end are all taken from Panic! At The Disco’s ‘The End Of All Things.’ Hope you enjoy reading as much as I did writing!
> 
>  **EDIT:** hiiiii! so as promised, i'll thank the three lovely people who helped me with this! [jean](http://thenagibae.tumblr.com/), love, thanks for encouraging me to participate in this exchange even when i doubted myself, and for looking over this even though you're no longer part of this fandom and want absolutely nothing to do with it. [alissa](http://lissagani.tumblr.com/), thanks for virtually holding my hand and cheering me on, and for screaming at me through texts and facebook chats when i sent you the first draft. and [star](http://star55.tumblr.com/), thanks for always being so lovely, and for lifting my spirits up whenever i doubt my writing and myself, in general. this fic wouldn't be what it is now if it weren't for you three. i love you all :)
> 
> also! someone pointed out that the lyrics are, in fact, "lay us down" and not "weigh us down", which means i've been hearing it wrong all this time and my life is one giant lie. yeah. just to clear things up. i'm not changing the title, though!

_Whether near or far, I am always yours  
Any change in time, we are young again_

_~_

**Eight and Ten**

Harry’s knee is scraped and bloody the first time he meets Louis.

He’s sitting by the bottom end of the playground slide, clutching at his injured knee and crying, unable to pick himself up from the ground. The playground is empty, most kids still in class, and he sobs as blood continues to seep out from his wound.

“Are you okay?”

He startles at the voice. Looking up, he sees a kid standing by the swings a few feet away, looking at him curiously. His eyes widen when he sees Harry’s knee, and he hurries over without waiting for Harry to reply.

Harry watches, pain momentarily forgotten, as the boy gets down on his knees and examines his wound. His eyes are blue, Harry notices, like the sky in his drawings for his mum or the ocean he remembers when they had that one family day out at the beach a year ago. His skin is a different color than Harry’s too, more golden, as though he gets out and plays under the sun a lot, and his light brown fringe sweeps across his forehead when he looks down.

“Does it hurt?” the boy asks, and Harry blinks out of his thoughts, glancing down at his knee. The blood’s beginning to dry, but some is still seeping out of the wound, red and sticky.

He nods, sniffing. There are tears still rolling down his cheeks, making him worried that the boy might think he’s a crybaby and laugh at him, but instead the boy offers him a kind smile.

“Don’t cry, yeah? I’ll take care of it,” the boy comforts, before looking down at the wound with a thoughtful look on his face.

“What’s your name?” Harry asks a moment later, once he gets his crying a bit more under control. His voice is a little shaky though, his lower lip trembling as he forces himself not to cry.

The boy glances up at the question and flashes Harry a quick grin. “My name’s Louis.”

Harry hiccups, wiping at his eyes with the sleeve of his jumper. He smiles, wide and watery, voice shaking a little less now because Louis sounds really nice and friendly, “Hi, Louis. I’m Harry.”

Louis hums. “Okay, Harry.” He looks at Harry fully now, smile wide and reassuring. “We need to get this cleaned and patched up. My mum is a nurse, so she’ll know what to do.”

Harry nods once, before biting on his full lower lip worriedly. “I don’t think I can stand, though.”

At that Louis pauses for a moment, thinking. Harry looks down at the ground and thinks about his own mum, wonders whether she’ll get mad at Harry for skipping his last class so he could go play alone and just ending up hurt.

“Aha! I got it.”

Harry looks up quickly, startled at Louis’ sudden outburst. Before he can ask what Louis means, arms are slipping under his knees and upper back, and then he’s being lifted off of the ground. He lets out a little scream, clinging onto Louis’ shoulders in fear of falling down. “Louis! You can’t carry me to your house, I’m heavy!”

“Nah,” Louis says, grinning even as he wobbles a little, “I’m real strong! I carry my little sister, Lottie, around all the time, and my house isn’t too far from here.”

Harry sniffs, clinging tighter onto Louis’ shoulder when the boy begins walking. He blinks. “You have a little sister?”

“Yep,” Louis nods, smiling. “She’s four years old.”

“Oh,” Harry says, glancing up at Louis’ face. “I’m not four, though.”

“Oh?” Louis asks, pausing for a moment so that he can readjust his grip on Harry. “How old are you, then?”

“I’m—um—eight.” Harry presses his face against Louis’ shirt, feeling the tear tracks drying on his cheeks and making his face feel a bit sticky.

“You’re younger than me then!” Louis says. “I’m ten.”

Harry nods, not really knowing what else to say. He cringes when his knee bumps against Louis’ arm, a sharp pain shooting up his leg. He whimpers.

Louis must have noticed this because he starts talking about random things, like how unusually sunny it is today and how Harry’s hair looks like a bird’s nest but in a completely cool way. Harry giggles, getting distracted from the pain for a moment. Louis’ voice is high and bright, and he talks like he already knows a lot about things.

When they finally reach Louis’ house, Harry looks around curiously. He knows the houses in this area are mostly up for sale, and that it’s usually quiet here—sometimes he and Gemma would go out and play here together, running around and chasing each other in a game of tag, or ducking behind empty houses when they’re playing hide-and-seek.

“My family’s just moved here two days ago,” Louis explains, setting Harry down on the doorstep with a loud ‘oof.’ He straightens back up and rubs his hands together for a moment, smiling reassuringly down at Harry. “Stay here, yeah? I’m just going to go call Mum.”

Harry obediently stays put, worrying his lower lip between his teeth as he thinks of what to say to his own mum when she sees his wound later tonight. Before he can think about it any further, however, a woman comes rushing out of the door.

“Aw, dearie,” she says, crouching down so that she’s at eyelevel with Harry and looking over Harry’s knee. Harry thinks she looks very much like a mum, with her hair up in a bun and her eyes looking at him warmly. “We’ll have to get this cleaned up, yeah? I’m Jay, by the way.”

Harry nods politely, letting Jay help him get up on his feet. Louis comes out of the door and stands beside Harry, slipping an arm around the younger boy’s waist for support. He smiles. “Don’t worry, Harry! Mum is great—she’ll make you feel all better in no time!”

Harry smiles at that.

Jay asks him for his family home number once she’s done patching up his knee, and Harry recites the digits his mum made him and Gemma memorize in case of emergencies. Louis sits beside Harry on the couch while Jay speaks on the phone, and he pokes at the younger boy’s cheek playfully.

“Feel better?” he asks, still smiling. Harry doesn’t think Louis’ stopped smiling since earlier. Harry likes that, thinks he wants to be Louis’ friend because the boy seems like he’s happy all the time.

He nods a few times in response to Louis’ question. “Yeah. Thank you.”

“No problem, we’re friends now and friends help each other out!” Louis says, grinning.

Harry’s eyes widen slightly at that. “We’re friends?”

Louis nods eagerly, smiling even wider. “Of course we are! You’re like, my first ever friend here. We just moved in, you see. Did I already tell you about that? Anyway! Maybe you can stay for dinner and I can show you my toys?”

Harry smiles. “You’ll let me play with you?”

Louis nods again, excited. “Of course!” He looks thoughtful for a moment, and then he’s slipping off the couch and crouching in front of Harry. “Oh, and Mum always kisses my wounds after she fixes them up. It makes me feel loads better all the time, so.” He leans forward and puckers his lips, pressing them over the bandage on Harry’s knee.

Harry giggles. “You’re silly, Lou.”

Louis only grins at him in response.

 

**Eleven and Thirteen**

“Can you hear me, Harry?”

Harry giggles, nudging Louis’ elbow. “Yes I can. Loud and clear.”

Beside him, Louis nods. “Good. Now here’s our mission for today.” He scoots a bit closer to Harry, squeezing himself further underneath the bed, before whispering into the imaginary walkie-talkie in his palm. “Dr. Evil just took an innocent little girl hostage. We must save her before everything is too late or something like that.”

Harry giggles again at the dumb name, but doesn’t make any further comment. Louis slips out of character for a moment to poke Harry on the side. “This is a serious mission, Harry! Stop it,” he scolds, but Harry can see that he’s smiling, as well.

Harry mimes zipping his lips shut, before putting on what he hopes is a serious expression. Louis nods, satisfied, and proceeds to promptly hit his head underneath the bed. He yelps in pain and surprise, clutching onto the back of his head, and Harry erupts into another fit of giggles.

“We’re never going to save the girl at this rate,” Louis whines, rubbing the sore spot on his head and wincing a little.

Harry reaches out and rubs over the spot where Louis hit his head, smiling softly. “I can kiss it better, like you do for me whenever I hurt something?”

Louis blinks, before smiling. “Yeah, okay. Good idea.”

They wriggle themselves from under the bed, giggling as dust comes flying out along with them. Louis gets up and plops onto Harry’s bed, sighing. Harry follows, unsure for a moment. “Um.”

“Oh, right.” Louis pushes himself up into a sitting position and tilts his head towards Harry with a grin. “Go on, then. Give me some of those magic kisses.”

Harry slaps at Louis’ arm lightly, but he goes in to press his lips against the sore spot on Louis’ head, anyway. He hears Louis sigh and he goes in again, pressing kiss after kiss over the spot. “Feel better?”

“Loads,” Louis says. “You know, your super power could be healing instead! You’d be really great at it.”

Harry pouts. “But that’s so lame! I wouldn’t be able to help you in saving the day.”

“Nonsense!” Louis exclaims, puffing his chest out and pointing at Harry. “I’m surely going to be the idiot superhero that gets injured nearly every day for being stupidly reckless, so I’ll need someone to keep me alive, yeah?” His gaze softens, then, and he puts his hand on Harry’s shoulder. “You’ll be that someone, Haz.”

Harry blinks at that. He glances down at his duvet, suddenly feeling bashful. “I keep you alive?”

“Of course,” Louis says. “You keep me safe and alive! But at the same time I’ll also keep you safe and alive by protecting you.” He grins. “I protect and you heal. We’ll be the dream team.”

Harry bites his lip for a moment, before looking back up at Louis with a smile. “Yeah, okay.”

Louis’ grin widens. “Brilliant. Now back to that girl we have to save.”

-

“Gemma, how can you tell if you like someone?”

Gemma looks a bit amused when she looks up from the book she’s reading, sitting cross-legged in the middle of her bed. Harry hovers by her bedroom door, not really sure whether he’s allowed to go in because ever since Gemma turned thirteen, she never let anyone in her room anymore.

She does make exceptions sometimes, and Harry is glad that this is one of those times. He eagerly stumbles into her room when she motions for him to come in, waving him over with a delicate hand. He sits down on the end of her bed, bringing his knees up to his chest and blinking at his sister.

Gemma sets her book aside and looks at him thoughtfully for a moment. “How can you tell if you like someone?”

Harry nods, chewing on his lower lip. “Yeah.”

“Well,” Gemma begins, frowning slightly as she thinks, “I guess the most obvious way to tell is if the person makes you happy. Like, even if they’re doing nothing special and you’re just with them, you feel really good. Like everything is going to be okay no matter what.”

Harry hums, nodding a few times. “And, um, what else?”

Gemma shrugs. “I guess if you also think about being with them—like, if you want to hold their hand and take them out on a date and kiss them. If you think about doing all of those things with them, then I’m pretty sure that definitely means you like them.”

Harry blinks, thinking of what his sister’s just said. He thinks of Louis and how he feels bright and happy whenever he’s with the older boy, thinks of holding his hand and kissing him. He thinks about singing songs with Louis and sharing biscuits with him while sitting underneath one of the trees in the park, thinks of just spending the entire afternoon napping with the older boy and how lovely that would be, thinks of keeping him _safe_ like Louis’ told him earlier. He can feel a smile forming on his lips, his cheeks heating up a little, and his sister must have noticed the change on his face because she asks, “Why Harry? Do you think you like someone?”

He glances at her, and the look on Gemma’s face seems to tell that she already knows. He blushes, glancing down at the bed sheets with a small smile on his face. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Hmm,” Gemma hums, picking her book back up and flipping through it, just to have something to do with her hands. “The first time I fancied someone was when I was ten, I think. I don’t really remember.”

“Yeah?” Harry asks, perking up.

Gemma nods. “But they were just tiny crushes, nothing serious.” She smiles at Harry. “You really like Louis, then?”

Harry begins to nod, but then he freezes once Gemma’s words sink in. He looks at her, eyes wide, as though she’s just caught him eating sweets right before dinner.

He calms down slightly, however, when Gemma laughs. “Harry, your face, oh my god.”

He blushes and grabs for a pillow, throwing it at his sister half-heartedly. “Shut up,” he whines, blushing and glancing down at the floor. “You don’t mind, then?”

“What?”

“That I—well, that I like Louis.”

Gemma’s eyes soften. “Of course not, baby bro. Come here.”

Harry crawls over to her, letting himself be enveloped in her arms. He smiles. “Thank you, Gems.”

“Anytime, Harry.” She presses a kiss on top of his head. “And, um, I heard you and Louis talking earlier. About, you know, keeping each other safe?”

Harry blinks at that, looks up. “You heard that?”

Gemma nods. “You were pretending to be superheroes, yeah?”

“Yeah. My superpower was originally fire control but Louis told me I could have healing instead.” He shrugs. “That way I can keep him safe and alive even while he protects me. He’s got super speed, you see.”

Gemma smiles. “That’s really nice, you know.”

Harry just smiles back, snuggling further into the warmth of his sister’s embrace.

 

**Twelve and Fourteen**

Harry’s just finishing with putting his books inside his locker when someone comes up behind him and covers his eyes. He smiles, giggling when the person whispers “Guess who?” into his ear, voice and touch both so achingly familiar.

“Louis, get off,” he says, adding a bit of a whine to his voice. “I need to put my books inside.”

There’s giggling behind him, the hands pulling away from his eyes, and when he turns around he sees Louis standing there, smiling at him all soft and fond. Harry’s chest flutters a little.

“How’s your first day of secondary school, Hazza?” Louis asks, throwing an arm around Harry’s shoulders and leading them towards the cafeteria.

Harry leans into the touch and sighs happily. “It was alright, I guess. Met a few people, some of them were real nice.”

Louis pinches his cheek, pouting. “Looking to replace me already, then?”

“Never,” Harry says immediately, pressing further against Louis’ side and making the older boy giggle. “No one can be as annoying as you, Lou. You’re the only one for me.”

Louis presses a quick kiss against the side of his head in response. “And you’re the only one for me, too, Hazza.”

Harry ducks his head to hide his smile.

The cafeteria’s full when they arrive, and for a moment Harry thinks there’s nowhere for them to sit. He’s about to suggest that they just eat outside at the courtyard instead, but then Louis is reaching down, wrapping his fingers around Harry’s wrist and tugging. Harry follows him into the large room, not questioning where it is they’re going—with Louis, there are no questions asked, ever. Harry will blindly follow him to the ends of the earth, as Gemma had told him once before.

“Hey, man! Over here,” a voice calls, and Harry looks up to see a boy waving at them, sitting alone by a table.

Louis waves back and leads Harry towards the table, not letting go of his wrist until they’re sliding onto the bench across from the boy.

“Hey, mate,” Louis greets the boy, smiling. Harry feels awkward for a second, not really sure of what to do. It seems polite to introduce himself, but before he can even open his mouth Louis is already saying, “I’ve told you about Harry before, yeah?”

Harry glances at Louis at the mention of his name, before he turns back to face the boy. He’s got a little smile on his face as he looks back at Harry. “Yeah, you have. Loads, really.”

Louis throws an arm around Harry’s shoulders and pulls him closer. “Harry, that’s my mate, Zayn.”

“Hi,” Harry says in a small voice, waving a little awkwardly.

Zayn laughs. “You’re right, Lou. He’s adorable.”

Harry blushes, looking at Louis questioningly but the other boy is too busy glaring at Zayn to notice, making shushing motions with his free hand. Harry blinks a few times, deciding to just shrug it off for now. He reaches for his lunch bag, trying to distract himself from the thought of Louis talking about him and calling him adorable.

He catches sight of Zayn lifting his hands up, blinking in mock-innocence at Louis, before promptly changing the subject. “Where’s your food, then? The line’s pretty insane, it took me nearly half an hour just to get these,” he says as he lifts his bag of biscuits and offers them to Harry, who shakes his head quickly, still a bit shy.

“Mum made me lunch this morning, so it’s okay,” Harry explains. He brings out two neatly-wrapped sandwiches and hands one to Louis. “Mum told me to give you this by the way.”

“Bless Anne,” Louis says, taking the sandwich and sticking his tongue out at Zayn, who sighs dramatically.

“My best mate’s mum never makes me lunch,” he mock-whines, and Louis sticks his tongue out at him again.

“Sucks for you that I’ve already got the bestest mate anyone in the world could ever ask for.”

Harry blushes at that, biting into his sandwich to stop himself from smiling obnoxiously at Louis’ comment. He tunes out the sounds of Louis and Zayn bickering, focusing instead on his food and on the feeling of Louis’ arm still around him.

Louis squeezes him a moment later, groaning appreciatively. “Anne makes the best sandwiches, honestly. Don’t tell Mum I said that, though.”

Harry giggles. “I can’t make any promises.” When he glances beside him, he sees that Louis has a mock-horrified look on his face.

“Well if that’s the case, then I guess I can’t invite you over on Friday night for a sleepover.”

Zayn snorts. “A sleepover? Seriously man? You’re, like, fourteen years old.”

Louis rolls his eyes at the boy. “Shut up, Zayn. It’s going to be a really cool sleepover. Harry and I are gonna do a lot of manly bro dude pal things and you’re not invited.”

Zayn shakes his head. “I wasn’t asking to be invited, mate. Wouldn’t want to intrude or anything.”

Harry blinks, confused about what Zayn means by that, but Louis is already talking before he can even ask. “I have no idea what you’re on about, mate.”

Zayn just smiles and mimes zipping his lips shut.

-

“What do you think will happen to Woody and his friends when Andy grows up?”

Harry pauses from where he’s about to throw a potato chip into his mouth, turning his head to give Louis a slightly confused look.

It’s Friday, and they’re sitting on Louis’ bed, watching _Toy Story_ and eating all the junk food Louis’ got hidden in his room. Harry shifts where he’s leaning against the headboard, trying to make himself more comfortable before answering Louis’ question with a shrug. “He’ll throw them away, I guess.”

Louis frowns. “I don’t think I like that.”

Harry shrugs again, putting the chip between his teeth. He watches Louis instead of the movie for a moment, focuses on the thoughtful look on the older boy’s face as he carefully chews the chip in his mouth.

“I think Andy cares too much about his toys for him to just throw them away,” Louis says after a moment, glancing back at Harry. “Maybe he’ll give them to another kid instead?”

Harry hums, resting his head against Louis’ shoulder and looking back at the small telly sitting on a table by the foot of Louis’ bed. “Maybe,” he allows. He’s silent for a moment, thinking to himself. On the telly, Buzz’ just found out that he can’t really fly, and it makes Harry feel sad for some reason. “What happens when you grow up?” he asks quietly, murmuring the question.

He knows Louis’ looking at him even though he’s got his eyes on the telly, can feel the way Louis’ gazing at the side of his face. “What do you mean?”

“Like.” Harry shrugs, crinkling the plastic bag of chips in his hands, just to occupy them. “What happens when you go to uni?”

“Well,” Louis begins saying, thoughtfully, “I’m planning on taking a major in maybe drama and literature—”

“No,” Harry cuts Louis off, shaking his head. He glances at the older boy briefly and sees the confused look on his face, brows furrowed. “I mean,” he tries again, “I’m sure you’re going to meet new people there, make better friends. You’ll be busy and, I don’t know, you’ll be too old to—”

“Hazza,” Louis cuts in, sounding like he already knows where this is going. Harry looks at him properly, finally, but just for a couple of seconds. “What are you talking about?”

“Um.” Harry bites his lip, glancing down at the bed sheets. They’re no longer the same navy blue comics-themed sheets that Harry first saw four years ago, of course, and. Well.

Louis’ growing up, is the thing. He’s making friends for himself and Harry’s just trying to catch up, but in the end he thinks he’ll always be two steps behind. It’s not really a comforting thought.

“Hazza,” Louis says again when Harry’s been silent for too long. “I won’t go to uni for another five years.”

Harry shrugs, still not looking up. “Yeah.”

He hears Louis sigh. “Harry. You’re not a toy that I’m going to give away once I hit eighteen or nineteen. You’re my best friend. Okay?”

Harry nods a few times. “Okay,” he murmurs, sounding unconvinced even to his own ears.

“Look at me, please, Haz.” Harry looks up, albeit hesitantly, and Louis says, “How about this—I’ll take a gap year, yeah? Okay, two, since I’m ahead of you by two years, but.” He shrugs, smiles. “That way we’ll get to start uni together.”

Harry blinks, surprised. “But—really?”

Louis grins in that comforting and familiar way of his that makes Harry feel like everything’s going to be okay. “Of course!”

Harry can’t help himself—he carelessly throws the bag of chips he’s still holding aside and throws his arms around Louis, and they both end up toppling down on the bed. Louis’ laughing, though, running his hand through Harry’s thick hair fondly. Harry sighs at the touch, pressing his face against Louis’ chest and smiling. He thinks back to the conversation he had with Gemma about a year ago, briefly considers telling Louis now, but.

Maybe not yet.

“I told you, you’re the only one for me, Harry,” Louis says after a while, movie now completely forgotten in favor of cuddling. “You’re my best mate and I’m never going to leave you.”

Harry presses his smile against Louis’ chest at that. “I feel the same, Lou.”

And that’s enough for now.

 

**Fourteen and Sixteen**

“Have you got anyone to go to the dance with you, mate?”

Zayn shrugs, leaning back against Louis’ headboard and frowning as he misses another goal. “I’m going solo,” he says, a bit belatedly, biting his lip in concentration. Harry giggles at the intense look on his face.

“Oi,” Zayn snaps without taking his eyes off of the telly, “stop laughing at me, Styles.”

Louis snickers from where he’s sitting on the floor by the foot of his bed, easily kicking Zayn’s arse in the game. “What’s the matter, Zaynie-poo? No one asked you to go with them?”

“For your information—oi, oi, FUCK!” Zayn groans as Louis makes another goal, ending the game at 5-2. He glares at his controller as he continues, “I got a lot of offers. I just turned them all down.”

Harry lays down on his front on the bed, socked feet propped up on the pillows beside Zayn, stretching out and yawning. Louis turns to give him a fond look, bopping him on the nose and making him giggle.

Zayn groans. “Stop being ridiculously adorable in front of me, god. It’s making me feel so alone.”

Louis sticks his tongue out at Zayn’s general direction without taking his eyes off of Harry. Harry smiles dopily in response, leaning forward and rubbing his nose against Louis’. “Hi,” he whispers, voice helplessly soft and fond.

“Hi, babe,” Louis whispers back, grinning widely.

Zayn groans again, this time louder. “I swear guys, cut it out with the PDA. I’m feeling so lonely over here.”

Louis finally breaks eye contact with Harry to give Zayn a narrow-eyed look. “Not my fault you turned down every single person who asked you out.”

Zayn glares. “And just who are _you_ going with, may I ask?”

Louis rolls his eyes as though the answer is obvious enough and Zayn’s an idiot for even asking. Still, it catches Harry by surprise when Louis puts a hand on top of his head and says, “I’m going with Hazza over here, obviously.”

Harry’s eyes widen a little, and Zayn snorts. “I figured.”

“Wait, is that even allowed?” Harry asks.

Louis waves a hand, unconcerned. “It’ll be alright, I promise. Don’t worry about it.”

“Yeah, man,” Zayn says, lying down beside Harry and lifting his arms in a stretch. “They said it’s cool to bring whoever, so you’ll be fine.”

Harry nods once, bites on his lip. “I don’t have anything to wear, though, and the dance is in a week from now, right?”

Louis smiles a bit sheepishly. “I might have already told Anne that I was planning on taking you as my date”—Harry’s heart does a little flip at that, at the word _date_ —“so she might have already gone out to get a tux for you.”

Zayn shakes his head in amusement. “You’ve asked Harry’s mum before asking Harry himself?”

Louis playfully slaps Zayn on the forehead. “To be fair, Anne and Mum were already planning on making me ask Harry even before I told them that I was going to, so.”

Harry blushes, ducking his head to hide his smile. Zayn nudges him on the shoulder. “So what do you say to that, H?”

Harry smiles even wider, cheeks pink. As if he can ever say no to Louis. “Well, I guess it can’t be helped.”

-

“Shouldn’t I be the one picking Louis up? It’s _his_ dance and not mine, after all.”

Anne doesn’t even bother answering him, too busy straightening out Harry’s suit and making sure everything is perfect. Harry sighs and lets his mum fuss over him a while longer, until Gemma passes by outside and stops by his open door.

She smirks. “Looking sharp there, baby bro.”

“Shut up,” Harry says without any real heat, looking down at the floor to hide his blush. He hears Gemma come into his room, probably to inspect him or something.

After a while he hears her say, “He looks great, Mum.”

Harry looks up and sees Anne smiling. “He does, doesn’t he? My baby’s growing up. It feels like it was only yesterday when I was carrying him around in my arms, and now he’s getting asked out to a dance by his boyfriend.”

Harry blushes even harder at that. “Louis is not my boyfriend!” he protests, feeling his cheeks heat up even more at the suggestion.

Anne blinks, tilting her head a bit in confusion. “He’s not? But Jay and I are just certain that— _oh_.” She suddenly stops as though remembering something, and then she’s saying, “No, nevermind. Ignore me love, I’m just being silly here. Forget I ever said anything.”

Harry doesn’t really trust the smile on his mum’s face, but he nods once anyway. He can see Gemma trying to hold back laughter, and it’s making him feel a bit uneasy. It’s quiet for a moment, Gemma looking him over and Anne inspecting his appearance, running her fingers along the lapels of his suit.

“But, um, I _do_ like Louis, though,” he admits after a while, voice soft and quiet. “Is that okay?”

Anne looks up from where she’s fixing the buttons of his suit, eyes soft. “Of course, dear. It doesn’t change anything.” She presses a kiss on his forehead. “And to be honest I’ve known for a while now. It’s glaringly obvious, honey.”

Harry blushes but breathes out a sigh of relief. He’s never really given it much thought, but he’s always known that he doesn’t really like girls. He doesn’t really think he likes boys, either, but—he just really likes Louis. And he knows that his mum won’t mind, but having it reassured to him makes him feel a lot better.

It’s around fifteen minutes later when Louis knocks on their door, and Harry shoots up from where he’s been anxiously waiting on the couch. He hurries over to answer the door himself but sees that Anne has beaten him to it, and he takes a few seconds to sort himself out in front of the hallway mirror.

When he looks up, Louis is already standing inside and Harry’s breath catches a little in his throat.

“Hey, Hazza!” Louis greets, grinning widely, and Harry can see that he’s holding a small bouquet of flowers, pretty and colorful. His smile turns a bit sheepish when he hands them over, says, “Mum told me I should get something for you, so.”

Harry smiles shyly, blushing as he takes the flowers. “Thank you,” he murmurs, running a finger over the smooth petals and feeling how soft they are. “They’re beautiful.”

Louis brushes a stray curl behind his ear, making his cheeks turn even pinker than they already are. “ _You’re_ beautiful.”

Harry doesn’t really know what to say to that, but fortunately Gemma chooses that moment to come out from the living room, holding a camera. “Pictures,” she says simply, and Louis gladly loops his arm through Harry’s. Anne takes the flowers from him and puts them in a vase, and Harry smiles as Gemma aims the camera at them.

“Okay,” she says, “three, two, one, and smile!”

-

Harry’s sitting alone by their table, watching Louis dance with some of his friends. The song is fast and fun, but Harry’s content with just watching, and he laughs when he sees Zayn awkwardly trying to move, seeming unsure of what to do with his arms.

Louis openly laughs at his friend, too, eyes crinkling visibly even from where Harry is sitting. Zayn glares at Louis and aims a slap at his arm but the older boy just easily ducks out of the way, catching Harry’s eye in the process and winking, making Harry blush. He waves a hand over, signaling for Harry to come join them, but Harry just shakes his head quickly and shoots a thumbs-up to say that he’s fine.

When the song fades into a slow one a few minutes later, the group breaks off, some going back to their tables and the rest looking for their dates. Harry watches as Louis walks towards him with a smile, and he thinks that smile looks a bit similar to the one Louis gave him when he had been crying by the foot of the playground slide a few years ago.

Louis reaches a hand out once near enough, says, “Come with me.”

Harry can never really say no to Louis so he nods, taking Louis’ hand and letting himself be pulled up. He expects Louis to lead him to the middle of the room for a slow dance, so he’s a bit confused when Louis drags him towards the exit, away from all the people. Harry doesn’t ask questions though— _blindly follow Louis to the ends of the earth_ , a voice that sounds suspiciously like Gemma whispers in his head—and they walk a little, out into the streets, and Harry is confused but he still doesn’t say anything.

His eyes widen when he catches sight of the playground, but before he can ask Louis is already tugging on his hand, leading him towards the slide. There aren’t any people around, and Harry thinks he knows what Louis is planning, has a feeling on what the older boy is about to say and do. It makes his chest clench, makes his heart thud with hope and anticipation, makes his stomach erupt with the fluttering of the wings of a hundred butterflies.

“Remember the day we met?” are the first words out of Louis’ mouth once they stop, turning around so he’s facing Harry.

Harry smiles, shy and nervous and so, so hopeful. “Of course I do. How can I ever forget?” He laughs a little, tries to get his racing heart under control. “I was crying like a baby.”

Louis smiles back, soft and fond, probably thinking back to the same memory. He reaches for both of Harry’s hands, clasping them firmly in his and making Harry’s breath catch. “You were the very first friend I made when my family moved here.”

“Yeah?” Harry asks, even though he already knows this—even though he clearly remembers Louis telling him the very same thing six years ago. He dares to step just a little bit closer to the older boy, feels Louis’ warm breath hit his face, making his own breath stutter.

Louis steps closer as well, keeping their hands clasped between them. “Yeah. And the moment I saw you, I knew you were special.”

Harry blushes. “You were ten, though.”

“Hey, I’ll have you know that my mum told me I was a bright kid for my age,” Louis says, chuckling a little. He lifts their clasped hands and steps even closer, until he and Harry are nearly pressed completely against each other. “Harry, you know that I like you, right?”

Harry blushes, heart racing even faster. He nods a few times.

“Do you like me, though?” Louis asks, and Harry nods again. Louis smiles a small, private smile. “Do you want to be with me?”

And there it is. Harry glances at their clasped hands, then at Louis’ face, heart racing wildly in his chest. He wonders whether Louis can hear it, can hear just how hard Harry’s heart is beating for him. Harry doesn’t really mind that, and his voice trembles just slightly when he says, “Yeah. I do.”

Louis’ smile is wide and brilliant, blinding and beautiful. He presses one of his hands against Harry’s cheek, leans forward carefully. His gaze flits between Harry’s lips and eyes quickly, and he whispers, “Can I kiss you?”

Harry’s heart stutters even more, and he can only nod once in response. Louis’ smile softens, and that’s the last thing Harry sees before his eyes are slipping shut and Louis’ lips are pressing against his, fireworks going off in his head at the gentle touch.

 

**Sixteen and Eighteen**

Harry gasps, arching away from the sheets and throwing his head back against the pillows. Louis’ hands are immediately on his face, touch gentle and soothing.

“Are you okay, love?” Louis asks, voice sounding a bit strained. “We can still stop if it hurts too much.”

Harry blinks away the mist in his eyes, trying to focus on Louis’ face hovering above his, eyebrows pinched in concern and something else entirely. He shakes his head, trying to catch his breath and get his voice out properly. It sounds scratchy even to his own ears when he says, “N-no. I’ll be f-fine.”

Louis still looks unsure, but Harry can tell that he’s torn between moving and stopping entirely. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Harry grits his teeth, shaking his head and clutching onto Louis’ arm. “I’m okay. You can—just— _please_.”

A few hesitant beats pass before Louis starts moving again, slow and careful, pulling out and pushing back in as gently as possible. Harry gasps even louder, clutching onto Louis’ shoulders with both hands and pressing his face against the crook of the older boy’s neck. He shifts his hips a little, trying to get used to the stretch of Louis’ cock inside him, trying to clear his mind of the pain.

It burns, is the thing, but not really in an entirely unpleasant way. When he and Louis began talking about it a few weeks ago, the older boy made it clear that it’s going to hurt a lot at first, so Harry isn’t really surprised that it’s taking him this long to adjust. Even with how careful Louis had been, stretching him open for nearly half an hour with gentle fingers while continuously pressing kisses against his face, it still feels like he’s being torn open and split in two.

But Harry wants this, too—wants to feel as close to Louis as possible, wants to give him his everything. So he clenches his teeth and tries his hardest to ignore the burning stretch, tries to instead focus on the faint hints of pleasure from having Louis’ cock inside him. It’s not really the rush that it should be, but it’s there, and that’s enough for Harry to want to go through with this.

Louis talks him through it, murmuring praises and sweet nothings against Harry’s skin as he moves. And it helps. Louis’ voice helps Harry center himself, helps him relax and try his best to loosen up. He breathes through his nose, in and out, chest rising and falling in time with Louis’ slow thrusts.

It gets better after a couple of minutes, the pain diminishing enough for Harry to adjust and actually focus on the slow drag of Louis’ cock against his insides. He shifts his hips slightly and gasps, making Louis pause with a worried look on his face. He sounds like he’s having just as much of a hard time as Harry is when he says, “Did I do something wrong, love? Please tell me if I’m hurting you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Harry suddenly remembers that this is new for the both of them, that this is both their first time with anyone. Louis is just as overwhelmed and unsure as he is at this moment, and that thought, for some reason, makes Harry finally let go, makes him sigh and melt back against the sheets completely. “I’m fine, Lou,” he rasps. “Just. Do that again.”

Louis still looks hesitant, but he nods anyway, pulling out and pushing back in slowly. The head of his cock presses up against a spot inside Harry, making the younger boy’s toes curl into sheets, small sparks of pleasure shooting up his spine and overriding the pain for a short, blissful second. He mewls, fists gripping the sheets tightly and turning his knuckles white.

Louis must have realized that his reaction is a good one because he breathes out, “Yeah?” He rocks his hips just a bit harder when Harry nods, and Harry shudders as Louis’ hips press flat against his arse, getting his cock in deeper.

“Yeah,” Harry breathes back, shuddering and subconsciously spreading his legs wider. “Yeah.”

“Can I go faster, then?” Louis asks, keeping the movements of his hips as steady as possible, like he’s unwilling to do anything unless Harry tells him that it’s okay.

Harry smiles a little at that thought. “Yeah, you can.”

Louis returns the smile, leaning down and pressing his lips against Harry’s, stilling his hips for a moment. Harry wraps his arms around Louis’ neck and tilts his head back, letting Louis lick into his mouth and swallow the soft sounds he’s making from the back of his throat.

Louis keeps on kissing Harry even as he begins moving again, thrusting in short and quick, trying to aim for Harry’s spot. Harry breaks from the kiss to suck in some much-needed air, pressing the pads of his fingers against the skin of Louis’ shoulders, grounding himself.

He turns his head to the side, pressing his cheek against the pillow and panting. He can feel Louis littering kisses all over his neck and jaw, before pausing at his pulse point to gently suck a mark there.

His own cock is trapped between their bodies, leaking tiny drops of precome onto his stomach. The drag is rough and dry, and he moves one of his hands, trying to sneak it between their bodies so he can grip at his aching cock and relieve some of the pressure.

Louis suddenly pauses, pushing away from Harry a little so that there’s more space between them. He presses both of his hands on either side of Harry’s head on the pillow, supporting his weight, and he looks down at where Harry’s hand is lying near his untouched cock, seeming unsure.

Harry blinks, face burning as Louis continues to stare. “Um.” His voice is deeper, rougher. “Can I touch myself?”

Louis also blinks, shaking his head for a moment as though snapping himself out of a trance. Harry thinks he’s having just as much of a hard time believing that this is actually happening right now, that they’re actually real and right here, sharing this moment. It’s a bit overwhelming, really.

Louis finally finds his voice a few seconds later. “Of course you can, love. But wait, just let me—” he cuts himself off, reaching for the nightstand and coming back with the bottle of lube he used to open Harry up earlier. “Here, it’ll be easier.”

Harry lifts his hand from his stomach, stretching his fingers out for a moment and waiting. Louis uncaps the bottle, getting some of the cool gel on Harry’s palm and spreading it around. “There. Now you can.”

Harry smiles shakily in thanks. He closes his hand around his flushed cock, letting out a stuttering breath as he squeezes just under his head. He can feel Louis’ eyes on him, watching his movements and making his skin heat up, feeling a bit self-conscious. “Um,” he clears his throat, tries again, “you can, um. You can move now.”

Louis blinks like he’s just remembering himself, before laughing breathlessly. “Yeah, right.” He pulls nearly all the way out until only his head remains inside, before pushing back in and punching out a little moan from Harry. “You still good, love?”

Harry nods, a bit dazed, stroking his cock more firmly. “Yeah. More than good, actually.” He whines when Louis thrusts in particularly hard, his eyes slipping shut. “I feel great, Lou. You’re making me feel great.”

“You’re making me feel great, too,” Louis whispers back, picking up the pace. He lifts Harry’s thighs and wraps them around his hips, trying to get as deep and as close as possible. “I love you, Harry.”

Harry feels warm all over at Louis’ words, the pleasure slowly building up and making heat pool in his belly. He feels like he’s going to burst from the inside, feels loved and cared for and special, and just the thought of him sharing this moment with Louis is making him hurtle closer towards the edge.

Louis’ thrusts quicken even more, but he keeps them short and deep, and every other push back in he’ll hit this spot inside that makes Harry’s toes curl and back arch. By now Harry’s stroking his cock faster, the need to come burning low in his stomach, insistent and hot and twisting at his insides. He twists his fist over his head, feeling himself getting closer and closer, and he knows it won’t take long for him to reach the edge now.

He lets out a shaky breath, blinks up at Louis with glassy eyes. “I love you so much.” And then he’s coming, pulsing into his fist and dripping onto his stomach. His eyes slip shut, toes curling as his back arches for a second, before he slumps back down against the sheets, thighs dropping from around Louis’ hips and chest heaving.

He blinks his eyes open when he feels Louis pull out, and he catches sight of the older boy ripping the condom off of his cock and stroking himself quickly, eyes roaming up and down Harry’s spent body. Harry blushes at the look in Louis’ eyes but resists the urge to curl in on himself, instead focusing on the way Louis’ hand is moving. He wants to reach out and help Louis, wants to wrap his own hand around Louis’ fist, but all of his limbs feel like jelly.

Louis comes a few moments later, spilling onto the younger boy’s stomach with a moan of Harry’s name. He slumps down on top of Harry, breathless and sated, and Harry giggles, shoving Louis lightly on the shoulder.

“Lou, you’re heavy,” he mock-whines, still giggling a little. “And I feel sticky.”

Louis chuckles, pushing up on his elbows so that he’s not crushing Harry with his weight. He smiles dopily down at the younger boy, and Harry’s heart swells to twice its size in his chest. “I love you,” he whispers into the darkness, as though it’s a secret shared just between the two of them, when in truth everyone knows, everyone with eyes can see just how madly in love they are with each other.

Louis leans down and rubs his nose against Harry’s, before pressing their foreheads together. “I love you, too.”

 

**Nineteen and Twenty-One**

Harry sits cross-legged by the bottom of the playground slide, staring at the dirt and absently tugging on his lower lip. If he focuses hard enough, he thinks he can still feel the small yet sharp pain on his knee from all those eleven years ago, when Louis first found him crying. The memory brings a small smile to his lips.

“Hazza.”

He looks up and sees Louis approaching, smile wide on his handsome face and blue eyes as bright as ever. He stops right beside Harry and crouches down, reaching up to pull Harry’s hand away from his mouth. “You’re doing it again.”

“Sorry,” Harry says, smiling sheepishly. He glances at the slide. “I’m just a bit nervous, is all.”

Louis sits down on the dirt as well, scooting closer to Harry and sneaking an arm around the younger boy’s waist. Harry sighs at the touch, leaning onto Louis’ side and pressing his cheek against the older boy’s shoulder. He feels Louis press a kiss on top of his head, making him smile.

“Don’t be, love. I’ll be with you every step of the way, yeah? Just like I promised.”

Harry closes his eyes, breathes in the familiar scent of tea and damp grass and something else that’s plainly _Louis_. It’s comforting. “Yeah. I know that.”

Louis moves his arm so that he can reach up and brush a thumb across Harry’s smooth cheek, rubbing in small circles. “What’s wrong, then?”

Harry shrugs, keeping his eyes shut and pressing further against Louis’ side. “It’s just—uni.” He lets out another sigh. “I’m proper terrified, to be honest. What if I’m not good enough?”

He hears Louis tut in response, and then a kiss is being placed on his temple. “Nonsense. You’ll do great, babe. You’re a brilliant student.”

Harry peeks up at Louis through his eyelashes. “You really think that?”

“Of course I do, babe,” Louis says, smile reassuring.

Harry smiles a little, curling further against Louis and making himself smaller, even though he’s outgrown the older boy two years ago. Louis lets him though, enveloping him in a warm embrace, and they just sit there for a few moments, listening to each other’s heartbeats.

It’s Harry’s favorite music, really.

“Hazza, we’re going to have to move soon,” Louis says after a while, voice quiet. “Your sister will be waiting for us.”

Harry nods once. “Yeah, you’re right.” He glances one final time at the slide, thinks back to when he first saw the blue of Louis’ eyes. It brings a smile to his lips. “Let’s go.”

-

“Here you go.” Gemma pushes the door open and steps inside, waving a hand for Harry and Louis to follow her in. Harry tightens his hold on Louis’ hand and steps into the flat, feeling Louis close behind him.

It’s small. The living room can only probably fit a maximum of five people, so Harry doesn’t think they’ll be throwing any parties here. When he peeks into the open doorway leading to another room, he sees a tiny kitchen with a table in the middle and three chairs. There’s also another door that probably leads to the bedroom, but other than that there’s not much else to the space.

Harry thinks it’s perfect, anyway.

“I know it’s small, but it’s nice to live in,” Gemma is saying, gesturing around the room. “It doesn’t get too cold, the neighbors mind their own business, and everything is fully functional.”

“And the bathroom?” Louis asks, letting go of Harry’s hand and taking a look around for himself. “It’s attached to the bedroom, yeah?”

“Uh-huh. There’s a tub and shower, too. It’s not really that big, but I think it’s enough for two to squeeze in together.” She says this last bit with a smirk, making Harry blush and Louis chuckle. “That’s pretty much it, really. And oh.” She snaps her fingers, suddenly remembering something. “Everything in here, I’m leaving to you guys as a gift, by the way.”

“Yeah?” Louis asks, pleasantly surprised, at the same time Harry blurts out, “What?”

Gemma shrugs. “I’m moving to London for my job, right? I’m going to start everything fresh, move in to a new flat, buy new things for myself and all that. So I’m leaving all of this to you.”

“You’re not taking anything with you?” Louis asks.

Gemma shakes her head. “Nope. Just my clothes and books. Everything else is yours.”

“Even the telly?”

“Yes. And the couch and the bed and the study table inside your room. Even the fridge and the few kitchen appliances I’ve managed to get over my few years of staying here, they’re all yours.” Gemma smirks, crosses her arms against her chest and lifts an eyebrow at Louis. “Though I only trust my baby brother to handle those—no offense Lou, but I’ve seen your attempts at cooking before and none of them ended prettily.”

“Hey,” Louis protests, pouting. “There was this one time I made a successful meal! Remember the chicken stuffed with mozzarella—”

“—wrapped in Parma ham with a side of homemade mash,” Gemma cuts in, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard that before. Way too many times than I could care for, actually.”

“But Gems,” Harry says, finally finding his voice and making the other two look at him, “we can’t possibly just take all of these from you. You bought them with your own money and—”

“Harry,” Gemma sighs, cutting Harry off. “I told you, it’s okay. I know Louis’ been working for the last two years, saving up for when you finally move in together, and I’d really rather you spend that money for uni. And besides.” She smiles, reaching out and ruffling Harry’s messy hair pushed back by another one of the headscarves he insists on wearing recently. “I wouldn’t really need any of these anymore, so they’d be pretty useless even if I decided to keep them.”

Harry opens his mouth to protest further, but Gemma gives him a _look_ and he immediately presses his lips together, glancing down at his feet. He feels like he’s seven again, feels the same as that time Gemma gave him a biscuit before dinner and told him that it was their little secret.

“Seriously, Harry. I love you and I’ve come to love Louis, too, as annoying as he can get sometimes, so it’s really okay,” Gemma says, making Harry glance back up at her.

“Hey, I’m not _that_ annoying,” Louis mock-protests, but he takes a step towards Gemma anyway and opens his arms for a hug. “But thanks, Gems. Haz and I both appreciate it.”

Gemma accepts Louis’ brief hug before playfully punching him on the arm. “Just promise that you’ll take good care of my little brother, okay? I might be fond of you, but I’m still prepared to rip your head off if you make him cry.”

Harry blushes but keeps quiet. He can see Louis smiling. “I promise. And for the record, I’ve come to love you, too. You’re like a sister to me.”

“I know.” Gemma smiles, before stepping away from Louis and pulling Harry into her arms. “I have to go now. My train leaves in an hour and I need to get my bags outside.”

“We’ll help you,” Harry offers, and Louis nods.

Gemma’s smile widens, just a little. “If you insist.”

-

Harry spends the rest of his afternoon unpacking, putting their clothes inside the cabinet Gemma’s left for them and fixing the bed. It’s only slightly bigger than a single, but Harry doesn’t really mind—after all, he and Louis have slept side by side on each other’s beds countless of times in the past, and more often than not they ended up completely pressed against each other with their limbs tangled together, so it’s not really going to be a problem.

Louis’ out buying groceries for them to stock their fridge with, insisting that he be the one to go out since he’s been to Manchester a few times before while looking for universities they can apply to, and therefore he has a better idea of the place. Harry has reluctantly agreed when Louis promised to buy him fruits.

After he’s done putting their pillows on top of the bed, Harry decides to take a quick shower. The bathroom is just big enough for the two of them, with a sink beside the toilet and a tub with a showerhead taking up most of the space, lying parallel against the wall.

The water takes a minute or two to warm up, and Harry sighs gratefully once it hits his bare skin. He closes his eyes and tips his head back, letting everything about the day sink in.

He’s in Manchester now, living in his sister’s old flat. He’s with Louis, and they’re about to start uni together, just like Louis promised him seven years ago. He smiles a little to himself, leaning against the wall and sliding down until he’s sitting on the tub, letting the water beat down his back. He pulls his knees up to his chest, staring at the porcelain floor of the tub and watching as water drains down.

He’s happy, he really is, but he’s also really nervous, to be honest. Not just about starting uni, but also about officially living with Louis. They’ve been talking about moving in together since Harry was sixteen and Louis was finishing sixth form. They’ve agreed about it when Harry was starting his own sixth form and Louis was looking for a job so that they can save up for their move. They’ve had everyone’s support when they told their families about it, at eighteen and twenty, when Louis admitted to his mum that the reason he’s taking another gap year is so that he can wait for Harry—as though it hadn’t been obvious enough.

And now it’s happening.

Harry suddenly hears the faint sound of the door opening, immediately followed by Louis calling for him.

“In the shower,” he calls back, hugging his knees to his chest and waiting. Louis’ head peeks inside the bathroom a few minutes later, presumably after he’s put down the groceries on the kitchen table. Harry smiles at him. “Hey.”

Louis smiles back, stepping inside and tugging his shirt off. “Hey love. Mind if I join you?”

Harry waves a hand dramatically. “Be my guest.”

Louis grins at him dopily, tossing his shirt on the sink and clumsily tugging his trousers and pants off. He kicks them aside and Harry clicks his tongue fake-sternly, making Louis chuckle. “I’ll put them away properly later, I promise.”

Harry watches as Louis steps into the tub beside him, ducking his head under the spray of water for a moment and getting his hair wet. He sinks down on the tub beside Harry after, bumping their knees together.

Harry smiles. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Louis whispers back, leaning against his side. “What are you thinking about?”

Harry glances at Louis, watches the way droplets of water roll down the side of his face, watches the way his wet fringe hangs messily in front of his eyes. Harry gets one of those moments where it strikes him just how beautiful the older boy is.

“You’re beautiful,” he voices his thoughts, slightly breathless.

Louis blushes, caught off-guard by the random compliment, but he smiles nevertheless. He brushes a hand down the side of Harry’s face, touch soft, before murmuring, “Not as beautiful as you are, love.”

Harry leans into the touch, sighing as his face heats up a little. “I love you, you know that, right?”

“Of course I do. And I love you, too,” Louis tells him. “Now, what’s on your mind?”

Harry lets his eyes slip shut. “This. Us. It’s just—I’m a little overwhelmed, to be honest.” He blinks his eyes open again, stares at Louis’ face. “I’m just. I’m really kinda nervous about—well, about whatever happens next.”

“Hey now,” Louis whispers, pulling Harry closer to him. They shuffle around the tub for a moment, until Louis’ got his back pressed against the edge of the tub with Harry between his legs, until they’re pressed together as closely as possible, back-to-chest. Harry’s eyes flutter shut when Louis noses at the skin behind his ear. “I’m here for you, yeah? Every step of the way.”

Harry nods, tilting his head back so that it’s resting against Louis’ shoulder. “Yeah, I know that.”

Louis’ arms wrap around his waist and squeeze. “Then what’s making you all nervous?”

Harry sighs softly. “Just. I hope it all works out for us. And.” He drops his voice a little, blinks at the ceiling. “I hope you don’t get tired of me.”

He fees Louis press a kiss just behind his ear, the arms around his waist tightening their hold even more. “Harry, babe. I’ll never get tired of you, ever.” He nudges at the side of Harry’s head with his nose, and Harry turns so that they can look at each other properly. “We’ve been together for five years, and before that we’ve been friends for six. I’m not letting you go for another hundred, even _thousand_ years.” He smiles softly. “Not ever, really.”

Harry manages a small smile at that. “We’d be dead by then, though.”

Louis shakes his head. “I’m still not letting you go in the afterlife, babe. You’re stuck with me for all of eternity, so you’ll just have to deal with it. Soulmates and all that, if what our mums say is to be trusted.”

Harry’s smile widens, and he leans forward so that he can press his forehead against Louis’. “Idiot,” he says fondly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Now let me wash your hair, and then we’ll make dinner. Sound good?”

-

They both find part-time jobs—Harry at a bakery near their flat, and Louis at a record shop about fifteen minutes away by foot. They’ve managed to make their schedules as similar as possible so that they have the same free periods, and they spend as much time as allowed together on campus despite them being in different degree programs. Harry usually gets home first around six in the evening after his three-hour shift at the bakery, and he usually spends the time making them dinner and doing coursework, waiting for Louis to get home.

They make it work.

It’s tough, of course it is, living on their own and trying to balance academics, extra-curricular, and work. But the fact that he’s doing all of this with Louis, that they’re supporting each other, makes everything easier and more bearable and definitely _worth it_.

They don’t make many friends, though, what with Louis constantly busy with his own coursework and trying out for the footie team, and with Harry too focused on his lectures, but it’s still okay. The only person Harry considers as his friend other than Louis is Niall, this loud, blond Irish kid a year ahead of him that he shares seats with during English. And there’s also Zayn who, as it turns out, attends the same university as him and Louis—of course Louis already knew this, but forgot to mention it to Harry.

So they don’t meet that many new people, and more often than not one of them falls asleep in the middle of doing homework, but.

Harry is happy. He really is.

-

Louis comes home one day with a guitar.

Harry looks up from where he’s sitting on the couch, typing an essay on his laptop with Louis’ reading glasses perched on his nose. He raises an eyebrow at the guitar case slung across Louis’ back, slowly closing the lid of his laptop and asking, “What’s that for?”

Louis grins, dropping down on the couch beside Harry and pecking him on the lips in greeting. He takes the guitar off and asks, “Remember Liam?”

Harry blinks, nodding. “The bloke you work with at the record shop, right?”

Louis nods quickly, blue eyes bright and sharp little teeth on display with how wide he’s grinning. He seems really excited about something, and Harry finds it really adorable. “So he’s been teaching me how to play, since we don’t really get that much customers. And, well,” Louis pauses for a moment, twisting his hands together, “I think I can play a song or two now.”

Harry smiles, setting his laptop on the coffee table and making a mental note to get back to his essay later. “That’s really great, Lou.”

“Yeah. And, um.” Louis glances down at his lap for a short second, before looking back up at Harry through his eyelashes. “I wanted to play a song for you?”

Harry feels his chest clench a little at that. He thinks he should be used to it by now, but even after all this time Louis still has this affect on him, still makes him feel breathless and like he’s fourteen all over again. He watches as Louis takes the guitar out from its case, positioning it on his lap and strumming a couple of the strings, testing the chords out. Harry kinda wants to take his camera from his bag so he can take a picture of Louis like this, face excited and determined yet still so soft and all for Harry.

Louis shoots him a small smile. “Um, I’m still learning so it’s going to be shaky, but.” He takes a deep breath, mouths one, two, three, and then starts.

Harry’s eyes widen slightly, recognizing the song almost immediately. After all, it’s a tune very familiar to him—it’s the song that Louis sang to him a number of times in the past, the song that makes Harry think immediately of Louis whenever he hears it play on the radio, the song that Louis played on his phone after their first kiss on the playground, the song that they slow-danced to at fourteen and sixteen. It’s the song that plays in Harry’s head whenever Louis calls him his baby, whenever Louis tells him that he’ll take care of him, that he’ll look after him.

Louis has a small smile on his face the entire time he plays, soft and almost shy, watching Harry watch him. Harry’s heart feels like it’s swelling to five times its size—his chest feels too tight, overcome with so much emotion, and it feels like he’s about to burst with how much love he’s feeling for this boy.

He loves Louis so much, and Louis loves him back just as much, it’s a little overwhelming sometimes, really. But Harry won’t have it any other way. 

When Louis finishes singing, it’s with a small laugh. He shakes his head a few times and sets the guitar down on the floor, biting his lip. The moment he straightens back up, Harry launches himself at the older boy, enveloping him in a tight embrace.

Louis lets out a startled laugh, automatically running his fingers through Harry’s hair. “Did you like it, then?”

Harry presses his face against Louis’ shirt, breathing in his scent and letting out a watery laugh. “I love it, I love it. I love _you_ , Lou.”

Louis’ arms wrap around him in response, and he feels warm and safe and loved and cared for. “I love you, too. So much.”

 

**Twenty-two and Twenty-four**

“I think I’d want to stay here,” Louis whispers into the dark, voice soft like a secret.

Harry curls up against Louis’ side even more than he already is, pressing his palm against the older boy’s bare chest and feeling the steady beating of his heart. “Stay here?” he asks, voice as low as a murmur. It feels like anything louder would disturb the small bubble of comfort they’ve set around themselves, where there’s nothing but him and Louis and all of the things they want to say but don’t have enough words for. “But what about your dream of acting?”

Louis shifts around the bed a bit, snaking an arm around Harry’s waist and idly tracing the ferns on his hips with a finger. “I’m not so sure about that anymore, to be honest,” he admits. Harry curls the hand on the older boy’s chest into a fist, but waits for Louis to finish speaking—after fourteen years of knowing each other, they’ve got each other’s little quirks and habits memorized, and Harry recognizes that the tone Louis’ using right now means he has more to say.

He’s right.

“I mean, I love acting,” Louis continues, and Harry knows that if he weren’t pinning Louis’ shoulder down with his head Louis would be shrugging. “But I just don’t think I’m good enough to do it professionally.”

“You know that’s not true,” Harry protests quietly, because it’s not. He’s been to all of Louis’ stage plays and musicals, even the ones where he only played small parts in, and he’s seen how brilliant Louis is. And he’s not just being biased, really. He glances up at Louis’ face with a frown. “You’re amazing, Lou. Brilliant, even.”

Louis smiles faintly, visible to Harry even in the dark. “Maybe,” he allows. “But I think I’ll be happy just teaching, you know?”

At that, Harry blinks. “Teaching? You mean, like, be a drama teacher?”

Louis glances down at Harry and smiles wider. Even though the only light in the room is coming from the buildings outside through their open window, Harry can still see the way Louis’ eyes crinkle slightly at the corners, which means he’s being genuine right now. “Yeah. I wanna be a teacher, Haz.”

Harry thinks about it for a moment, imagines Louis teaching a bunch of teenagers how to act, imagines Louis directing onstage plays. It’s not that hard to visualize, really. Harry has seen the way Louis interacts with people younger than him, has seen how Louis gets people to listen. Harry’s also seen the way Louis takes the role of leader in group projects, has been a witness to how Louis gets work done but at the same time makes sure that everyone is having fun.

Harry smiles. “Actually, I think you’d be good at that.”

“Yeah?” Louis asks, chuckling, though Harry can sense that he’s genuinely looking for reassurance.

Harry presses the side of his face against Louis’ chest and traces the _It Is What It Is_ tattooed just beneath Louis’ collarbones with his fingertips. “Yeah. Students would love you.”

Louis hums, and then they fall into a comfortable silence for a moment. Harry takes the time to think about all of the things they’ve been through for the last three years, how much they’ve changed but at the same time remained the same.

They’ve moved out of their first flat last year—Louis had been secretly saving since they started their second year of uni, apparently, had been looking for a bigger place for him and Harry to move into. The flat Gemma left them had been a good place to stay, but as they began getting busier, the flat just became too small for all of their books and paperwork and—in Harry’s case—photo portfolios to fit in. Harry had also needed an extra room to serve as a studio room of sorts, which pushed Louis into looking for a bigger place to stay.

They’ve been studying well, too, both of them determined to graduate together. Harry’s grades for most of his classes are excellent, just like Louis had predicted, and many professors and students like him for not only being talented but for also being very nice and sweet—Louis had to make it clear that Harry is taken on more than one occasion.

On the other hand, Louis’ grades aren’t as excellent as Harry’s, but they’re good, and what he sometimes lacks in academics he makes up for in extracurricular activities. He’s a member of both the football team and the theatre club, and for each one of his matches and performances, Harry’s been there, whether it be on the sidelines or on the front row, supporting him fully.

They’ve been getting along on their own just fine for the last three years, too, financially speaking. More than fine, really. They rarely struggle for money because other than their jobs, they occasionally receive money from their mums even though they’ve both told Anne and Jay that they’ll be just fine. Louis’ also learned to be practical, only spending when they really need to. It’s Harry’s job, on the other hand, to make sure they treat themselves every once in a while.

So all in all, Harry thinks everything’s been really great for the both of them.

“But what about you?” Louis’ quiet question breaks Harry out of his thoughts. He blinks, shaking his head slightly to himself, before he glances back up at Louis. Even in the darkness of the room, he can still make out the thoughtful expression on the older boy’s face.

“You know I’ll go where you go, Lou. And if you want to stay here, then that’s what I want, as well.”

“Is that really what you want, though?” Louis asks. “I mean, you’re so amazing at what you do, babe. And I know you’ve always dreamed of photographing wildlife.”

“Yeah,” Harry admits. He’s fond of taking pictures of animals and nature, has dragged Louis outside to parks with him at odd hours numerous times in the past just so he can catch ‘life in action’ while the rest of the world is still and quiet. He wants to do that professionally, really, wants to travel the world and take pictures of new things, but. “But if it means I’ll be away from you, then I’d really rather not.”

“Harry,” Louis sighs. “Please don’t let me get in the way of your dreams.”

Harry shakes his head, pressing his face against the side of Louis’ chest. “No, Lou. I never want to be away from you. I’m sure I’ll find a job here.”

“But Hazza—”

“Louis,” Harry cuts in, looking up at Louis and catching his eye even in the dark. “I’ll be okay, as long as I’m with you. You know that you’re all I want.”

Louis’ brows are furrowed slightly. “Yeah, I know that Haz, but what about your dream job?”

Harry smiles, small like a secret. “Since I was little I’ve always thought about starting a family, you know? Getting married and having kids and all that. That’s my dream life, Lou. And I’d choose it over anything, any time. _You’re_ my dream life, Lou. I love you so much, I can never stay away from you for too long. I know it’s probably unhealthy, but.” He brushes his lips along Louis’ collarbones, smiles a little wider. “From the moment you helped me up from the ground when we were kids, I think fate made it so that we’ll never walk away from each other, ever. So I’m with you, always.”

A few beats of silence pass, before Louis’ hand is closing over Harry’s own where it’s resting on Louis’ chest. And Harry knows that Louis understands, even though he says nothing.

 

**Twenty-six and Twenty-eight**

Harry’s just flipping the pancakes when arms suddenly sneak around his waist, making him squeak in surprise. He turns his head and puts a mock-stern look on his face, wagging his finger at a widely-grinning Louis. “I’m making us breakfast, if you don’t mind.”

Louis just chuckles, pressing a quick good morning kiss against Harry’s lips before peeking over his shoulder. “Pancakes!” he exclaims happily once he sees what Harry is making, and he gives Harry another kiss. “I love you, babe. You’re fantastic.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Harry says offhandedly, although inside he’s still glowing at Louis’ simple words. Even after twelve years of being together Louis can still make him feel as though he’s fourteen, and one look at Louis’ smug face tells Harry that the older boy knows just exactly how much of an affect he has on Harry. Harry just takes comfort in the knowledge that it’s the same thing for Louis, that he can also make the older boy feel flustered and overwhelmed with a few simple words.

They really are kind of perfect, Harry thinks.

“Tea, love?” Louis asks, already grabbing their mugs from the cupboard.

“That would be lovely,” Harry says, shooting Louis a quick grin before going back to the pancakes he’s making.

Louis reaches for the kettle. “Coming right up, babe.”

Harry smiles to himself at that. Mornings with Louis have become one of his favorite parts of the day, with just the two of them moving around in the kitchen, Harry making breakfast and Louis making tea. They usually manage to get an hour together before Louis has to leave for work at the local high school around thirty past seven and Harry has to prepare for his own job at a small magazine firm.

They still make time for each other a lot—they go on dates and take vacations every couple of months, mostly to nearby beaches and festivals, sometimes back home. They’ve only been busy recently because Louis directed a stage play for the first time, and Harry’s been working on an exhibit that he’s going to open tonight. He’s been doing a few photography jobs on the sideline, and after months of submitting portfolios he’s finally been approved to hold his own exhibit. He’s been really looking forward to it.

And, well. He might have also planned something else for tonight. Something really special and even more nerve-wracking than showing off his photos. He has to make sure Louis will be there.

“Lou, you’re coming to my exhibit tonight, yeah?” he asks, trying to sound as casual as possible as he slips the pancakes onto their plates.

Louis appears beside him a second later, handing Harry his cup of tea. “Of course I am, love. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Harry takes a sip from his tea and smiles to himself. “Tea’s perfect.”

Louis kisses him on the cheek, pressing his smile against Harry’s shoulder after. “ _You’re_ perfect,” he murmurs, making Harry blush and giggle.

“Shut up, Lou.”

“It’s true though,” Louis says, grinning and spinning Harry around until he’s got the taller boy pinned against the kitchen counter. “You’re perfect.”

Harry can feel heat creeping onto his cheeks at the compliment, and he ducks his head to hide his smile. He feels Louis place a hand on his cheek, and it flushes further under the soft touch. He takes a peek at Louis’ face, sees that Louis is giving him that _look_ again—the look that seems to say Harry is everything to him, open and vulnerable, yet absolutely beautiful and near-blinding in its quiet intensity. It’s the look that Louis gave him when they first exchanged their _I love you_ ’s, the look that Louis gave him when Harry graduated uni with flying colors, the look that seems to say _you’re everything to me_ and _I’m so proud of you_ and _I love you more than anything else_.

Harry smiles, feeling young and shy and so, so loved. “Stop looking at me like that,” he murmurs, but his smile stays in place.

Louis just smiles back at him in response, small and fond and private. “I love you so much.”

Harry tilts his head, helplessly leaning into Louis’ touch. “I love you, too.” He turns his face and presses a kiss against Louis’ palm. “Now go eat. You have work in less than an hour.”

Louis presses his lips against Harry’s temple, smiling. “Okay.”

-

“Harry, buddy!”

Harry turns around just in time to catch a leaping Niall in his arms. He stumbles backwards and tries to fight gravity for a second, before he’s helplessly falling down flat on his arse with Niall sprawled all over him.

“Niall!” he exclaims, trying and failing to hold in the burst of laughter bubbling up inside of him. It’s just Niall’s effect on everyone, really—his happiness is _that_ contagious. “Get off of me, you dumb Irishman!”

Niall is cackling madly, clinging tightly onto Harry’s shoulders. “Big night tonight! I’m so happy for you, buddy!”

Harry smiles and ruffles Niall’s hair. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks mate.” He gently pushes at Niall’s shoulders. “Now get up, I need to get things ready.”

Niall gets up and helps Harry onto his feet. “It’s going to be brilliant, I’m telling you. Everyone’s going to love your photos.”

Harry smiles and gives Niall a quick hug. “Thanks, Ni. That really means a lot to me.” He pulls back with a slight frown. “You’re here pretty early, though. Does it really take that long to set up the music?”

Niall waves a hand in the air. “Nah, mate. It’ll just be quick.”

“Then why are you here already?” Harry asks, before quickly adding, “Not that I mind or anything!”

Niall grins. “I’m here to provide you with emotional support. Also, I’m gonna make sure you don’t lose your shit before tonight.”

Harry pouts, crossing his arms against his chest. “I’m nervous, Ni, but not _that_ nervous. I’m pretty confident with my photos, you know.”

“Not about that,” Niall says, and before Harry can ask the blond reaches around him and pats the back pocket of Harry’s ripped skinny jeans, where a small box is resting. “I’m talking about _this_.”

Harry jumps away, blushing. He glares at the blond. “ _Shh_. I’m trying to not think about that yet.”

Niall just gives him a shit-eating grin in response. Harry rolls his eyes and walks away so he can start setting up, ignoring the way the box feels like it’s burning a hole through his jeans now that someone’s acknowledged it.

-

Harry keeps on tugging at his lower lip as he watches the steady stream of people going through the front doors. He’s been told that a lot of people are coming, but it’s still a bit overwhelming to actually see this many people walking around and taking a look at his photos displayed on the walls. He won’t be introduced until around fifteen minutes later, and so he’s just standing off to the side, partly hidden in the shadows. Niall’s playing a nameless tune, keeping the atmosphere light and welcoming, but it’s doing little in helping Harry ease his nerves.

“Love, you’re doing it again,” an achingly familiar voice whispers into his ear, making him jump.

He spins around, eyes wide, and sees Louis standing there looking, well. Looking perfect. Harry didn’t think Louis had been listening to him when he said to dress up a bit for the event—Harry himself is wearing a heart-print Burberry shirt with a black blazer and black skinny jeans—but judging Louis’ appearance now, apparently he was.

He’s wearing a black blazer with sleeves that don’t even reach his wrists—Harry can see the bird tattooed on Louis’ right arm clearly, the one that matches the swallows on his own chest—with a white shirt underneath, and his hair’s slicked back, brushed away from his forehead. Harry can tell that Louis also tried to shave but did a lazy job of it, scruff lining his jaw and chin and, just. He’s so beautiful, is the thing.

Louis smiles a bit shyly, and Harry can tell it’s because he’s not really used to getting dressed-up unless it’s for a play. Harry is also pretty sure that Zayn is the one to thank for how Louis looks right now. Harry makes a mental note to send him a fruit basket later.

Right now, though, right now is for Louis.

“You’re gorgeous,” he says, sounding breathless even to his own ears. “Like. _Wow_.”

Louis blushes a little at the compliment, but his smile widens nonetheless. He reaches out and takes the collar of Harry’s shirt between his fingertips, stepping a bit closer. “And you’re stunning.”

Harry looks down for a moment, feeling bashful. The small box in his pocket suddenly feels heavy, like it suddenly weighs fifty times its size, demanding attention, but he pushes it to the back of his mind for now.

“Don’t be nervous, love,” Louis says, and then a second later Harry feels Louis’ hand on his cheek. “Look around you, everyone loves your photos. This exhibit is going to be really successful.”

Harry smiles at the sincerity in Louis’ voice, says, “Yeah, okay.”

That’s when Zayn comes into view, looking like a perfect model, as always. He pats Harry on the back and pulls him into a one-armed hug. “Everything’s going great! Congratulations, mate.” He pulls away with a smile. “Your photos are sick. I mean, I’ve seen some of them before, yeah, but seeing them properly up on those walls—they’re just insane.”

Harry smiles, flushing at the praise. He really enjoys doing his work, and seeing other people enjoy it too makes him incredibly happy. “Thanks, man,” he tells Zayn, punching him lightly on the arm. “I appreciate it.”

Niall suddenly comes running towards them, barely even sparing Louis and Zayn a ‘hello’ before he’s tugging on Harry’s arm and saying, “C’mon mate, they’re about to introduce you.”

Harry blinks, suddenly feeling nervous again. He throws a panicked look at Louis, but the older boy only smiles encouragingly at him, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss on his lips. “Go on, love. I’ll be right here.”

Harry manages a smile and, taking a deep breath, he lets Niall tug him towards the small stage set up in front of the room.

-

It’s been a little over an hour and everything is still going smoothly. Harry’s talked to a few important people, all of them complimenting his work, and by the time he’s managed to sneak outside for some air he’s bright-eyed and feeling accomplished. He leans against the wall of the building, listening to the faint sound of music coming from inside. Drinks are probably getting served right now, and even though Harry wants to drink a bit himself, he’d really rather remain completely sober if he’s going to go with his plan for tonight.

Sighing, he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out the tiny box that has been haunting him for the past month. He brings it up in front of his face, feeling the weight and texture of it against the skin of his palm, before he opens it and stares at the simple silver band resting inside.

He’s had the ring for a month now, carrying it around with him wherever he goes because leaving it at home would be too risky. Sometimes Louis likes to randomly dig inside their drawers when he’s bored, and if he ever found the ring then Harry’s plan of a perfect, romantic proposal would be ruined.

He picks the ring up from the box, carefully holding the band between his fingers. He notices that he’s trembling, and it should be ridiculous because he knows Louis would say yes, of course, but. It’s still nerve-wracking.

The thing is, Harry knows that he’s going to spend the rest of his life with Louis. From the moment they first told each other _I love you_ Harry had known that this, him and Louis, would last. But there’s still a tiny voice of doubt in the back of his head telling him that this isn’t the time, that he’s being a bit reckless, that he should wait.

And, well. Harry’s mind is just jumping to the worst case scenario—what if Louis says no and decides that he’s tired of being with Harry? What if Louis leaves him? It’s so farfetched, yes, but Harry can’t help but worry and overthink everything.

“Harry?”

Harry jumps at the sudden voice, nearly dropping the ring. He turns, wide-eyed, and sees Louis already walking towards him. He then proceeds to panic, fumbling with the ring and the box, trying to hide it before Louis can see.

Too late.

“What’s that you’ve got there, Haz?” Louis asks, already reaching for Harry’s hand.

“No!” Harry exclaims, too loudly, pulling his hand away before Louis can take the box from him. Louis blinks, the surprise and hurt obvious on his face, and Harry immediately feels horrible because they rarely raise their voice at each other. “I mean—um, it’s nothing, Lou. Don’t worry about it.”

Louis doesn’t look convinced. Harry’s always been a shit liar, really. But fortunately for him, Louis seems to decide to let it slip for now, because he instead asks, “What are you doing out here?”

“Um,” Harry begins saying, trying to discreetly slip the box back into his pocket. He can feel Louis’ gaze locked on his hand, though, so he just clenches his fist around the object and hopes that Louis won’t realize what it is. “I just, uh. Wanted to get some air, is all.”

“Oh,” Louis says. He pauses for a moment, seeming like he’s contemplating something, and Harry realizes only then that Louis looks a bit nervous, too. “Right. I, uh, wanted to ask you something.”

“Oh?” Harry blinks.

“Yeah.” Louis rubs at the back of his neck, laughing a little, although there’s no real humor behind it. Harry recognizes it as the same laugh Louis uses before a play, when he’s nervous or unsure, the same laugh Louis gets before a footie match. “Um. Well, this isn’t exactly the setting I imagined me doing this, but since we’re all alone right now and stuff.” He cuts himself off with a nervous chuckle, running his hand through his hair. “Well.”

And then he reaches inside his blazer, taking something out from the inner pocket, and Harry audibly gasps when he sees that it’s a small box, not much different from the one he’s clutching in his own hand. “Oh my god.”

Louis smiles nervously, chuckling a little and anxiously fumbling with the box. “Yeah, um.” He moves to get down on one knee— _god_ , he’s _actually_ going to get down on one knee right here, on the side of the street just outside of Harry’s first exhibit, to fucking _propose_ —but then Harry’s shooting his arms out, stopping him.

Louis blinks, confused, and Harry is five seconds away from laughing like a maniac because is this really happening. He flails around for a moment, not really sure what to say or where to start, so he just opens his hand and shows Louis the box lying on his palm.

Louis stares at it for all of five seconds before he’s bursting out into a laugh, loud and disbelieving and just a tiny bit hysterical. Harry laughs along with him, finding it insane that he and Louis chose the same day to propose.

Fate is funny, sometimes.

“Oh my god,” Louis says once his laughter’s died down. His blue eyes are wide and bright and looking at Harry like he’s the best thing to ever happen to him. “ _Oh my god_. You were going to propose.”

Harry blinks, eyes widening a little as the reality of the moment sinks in. “ _You_ were going to propose.”

“Yeah, but.” Louis waves his arms around for a moment, looking for words, and he lets out a short breathless laugh. “You were going to ask me to marry you tonight, weren’t you?”

Harry nods once, eyes still wide. “And you were going to ask me to be your husband.”

They stare at each other for a moment, and Harry can hardly believe that this is actually happening—that he’s here right now, standing in front of the person he’s loved so fiercely for the most part of his life. That they’re so in love, even after twelve years of being together, that they want to get married and maybe start a family and call each other their husbands.

Before Harry even realizes what’s happening, his eyes are filling with tears and then he’s crying, but at the same time he’s smiling so wide he can feel it nearly splitting his face in half. He covers his mouth with his hand, vision blurring as he lets out a half-sob, half-laugh.

Louis looks like he’s crying, too, and he pulls Harry into his arms, holding him close and tight. “God, I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Harry manages to say, and then he’s laughing again, wrapping his arms around Louis’ neck. “I love you so fucking much.”

“So we’re getting married, yeah?” Louis asks, chuckling. He sniffs, and Harry pulls away just slightly so he can see the way Louis’ blue eyes are tearing up.

He laughs. “Of course we are, silly.”

Louis grins, even while he’s crying, and then he’s stepping back so he can take the ring out of the box. Harry immediately gives the older boy his hand, holding his breath as Louis slips the ring on—it’s also plain silver, Harry notices, and he can’t help but think, _fate_. He lifts his hand up to his face and stares at it for a moment, admiring the way the silver band looks wrapped delicately around the base of his ring finger.

“Your turn,” Louis says, getting Harry’s attention by waving his hand in front of the younger man’s face. “Go on.”

Harry giggles, fumbling with his own proposal ring before he’s taking Louis’ smaller hand in his and slipping the ring on. He then clutches Louis’ hand in both of his, bringing them up so he can press kisses to his knuckles.

Louis giggles at him, bringing his other hand up and stepping closer, admiring the way their hands fit together so perfectly.

“We’re engaged,” he whispers after a few seconds of silence, voice sounding awed. Harry can definitely relate.

“Yeah, we are.” He presses a wet kiss against Louis’ lips, both of their faces tear-stained. “This is going to be a very interesting story to tell the kids.”

“Kids?” Louis asks, sounding breathless.

Harry blushes, biting his lip. He doesn’t think this is really the best time to talk about it since they only got engaged literally seconds ago, but. “Yeah. I want kids.”

“Yeah?” Louis glances down between them for a moment, before he’s pulling one hand away and gently placing it on Harry’s stomach. “Yeah?” he breathes out again, glancing back up so he can look Harry in the eye.

Harry nods, breath hitching slightly when Louis’ thumb begins rubbing circles over his tummy. Louis grins widely at him, leaning forward for a kiss, before he’s pulling away entirely. Harry blinks, a bit dazed, and then Louis is tugging at his hand, pulling him back inside.

“C’mon Haz, we’ll talk about that more later. But now, I want to tell everyone about my fiancé.”

 _Fiancé_. Harry feels like dancing, feels like running into the middle of the street and screaming, feels like announcing to everyone how much he loves Louis and how much Louis loves him back.

Louis smiles at him, wiping at the remaining tears under his eyes, and then they’re pushing the glass doors open, stepping inside with a shout of, “Guess who just got engaged!”

 

**Twenty-Nine and Thirty-One**

Harry stares at his reflection in the mirror of their bedroom, shirt lifted up to his chest so that his stomach’s on display. He’s six months along, and his butterfly tattoo looks all weird now, stretched across his bloated stomach. Frowning, he turns to his side and stares at the swell of his tummy, the disfigured ferns inked on his hips, and the obvious added weight in his arms and thighs. He’s getting fat, he knows, and he wonders about what Louis thinks of his appearance now.

The tiny voice in the back of his mind saying _what if Louis thinks you’re ugly now and is just too nice to say anything? Or worse, what if Louis realizes you’re not good for him anymore and leaves you?_ gets louder the more he looks at himself, and just. It’s unsettling, is the thing.

Part of Harry is saying that he’s being irrational, that Louis loves him more than anything, but. He can’t help but feel all of these insecurities right now, seeing himself in the mirror. He knows he wants this, that Louis wants this—they’ve talked about it countless of times after the night they both proposed, talked about raising children of their own and having a large house where their kids can freely run around and play. And now it’s happening—now they have a house and they’re expecting not just one but two additions to their family, and Harry’s really happy, but.

He can’t help but worry and overthink sometimes.

He’s too deep in thought to realize that Louis’ already arrived home, doesn’t even hear their bedroom door opening and closing, so he jumps a little in surprise when hands find their way onto his tummy. He immediately relaxes, though, leaning back against Louis with a sigh. He watches them in the mirror, watches Louis press kisses along his neck and rub circles on his stomach.

“How was school?” he asks, voice soft and quiet.

Louis hooks his chin over Harry’s shoulder and smiles at their reflection. “It was fine. I just told my students about their project, which means all I’ll be doing for the next few weeks is guide them through it. For the most part though I’ll just be watching them practice, so.”

“Hmm,” Harry hums, tilting his head to the side a bit so that Louis can press a kiss at his pulse point. “You made them come up with a short play to present in class, then?”

Louis nods. “Yeah.”

“So no big onstage play this year?”

“Nah,” Louis murmurs against his skin. “I don’t want to be too busy and stay at the high school for longer than I should. I’d rather spend time with you and our girls.”

Harry cracks a small smile at that. He watches Louis glance up at their reflection in the mirror, watches the slow spread of his smile across his lips. “There we go. You finally smiled.”

It never fails to amaze Harry how well Louis can read him, even after all this time. But that’s just the thing with Louis—nothing ever gets old. Every little thing that they do—be it Louis burning toast for him in the morning, or Louis using his shampoo so they both smell like apples, or Louis kissing over the spot on Harry’s knee where the scar from twenty-one years ago used to be—all of that _always_ makes Harry’s heart swell to ten times its size, makes Harry feel like his chest is about to burst. He wonders whether it’s visible to everyone they meet, the love they have for each other.

He remembers Zayn once writing a poem for them, something extremely sappy and romantic about how anyone can physically feel the love Louis and Harry have for each other with just the look in their eyes, the ghosts of their smiles, and the way their touch lingers for that tiny extra second whenever their fingers brush. He remembers Niall once composing a song for them, something incredibly cheesy about soulmates and finding each other at a young age, about everlasting love and fate. He remembers Liam’s speech at their wedding reception, how he talked about the way Louis and Harry complete each other in every single way, like two pieces of a puzzle.

So Harry guesses everyone can see. He doesn’t really mind that, if he’s going to be honest.

“What are you thinking of right now?” Louis’ silent question breaks Harry from his thoughts, and he blinks, finding their reflection staring back at them. He thinks they look beautiful, with Louis’ tired but soft blue eyes watching him fondly, with Louis’ gentle hands roaming across his tummy lovingly. At that moment Harry feels like he’s physically glowing, and all of his earlier worries vanish for the meantime.

He smiles. “Just thinking about how much I love you and how everyone can probably see it.”

Louis chuckles, kissing Harry on the cheek. “Of course everyone can see it, love. They’d take one look at you and know.”

“Yeah?” Harry asks, placing his larger hands over Louis’ on his stomach.

“Yeah,” Louis confirms. “They’d see how beautiful and loved you are, how well you’re carrying our babies. I mean, look at you, love. You’re glowing.”

Harry flushes, smiling even wider. “I am?”

“You are. You’re so stunning.”

“That’s because I feel so loved,” Harry says, slotting his fingers between Louis’. “You make me feel so loved and beautiful and just perfect, even though sometimes I feel like I’m far from it.”

Louis frowns slightly at that—Harry can see the way his face drops just a bit in the mirror. “What do you mean, babe? You’re absolutely perfect.”

“Yeah, but.” Harry sighs, closing his eyes. “Sometimes I look at myself and think that I’m getting too big, you know? I mean, I’m aware that it’s perfectly normal because I’m pregnant and all, but. I don’t know.” He shrugs, jostling Louis’ head on his shoulder. “I just get these irrational thoughts sometimes that you might realize you don’t really want me anymore and just leave me.”

It’s quiet for a moment. Harry keeps his eyes closed, listening to the sounds of their soft breathing mixing together. It both scares and amazes him to think that in a few months, there’ll be another pair of quiet breaths joining theirs inside their home.

Finally, Louis speaks, voice soft, “Babe. You know I’ll never leave you, right?”

Harry nods, still not opening his eyes.

“And you know that to me you’ll always be the most beautiful person ever, right?”

Harry nods again.

“Then what’s the matter?” Louis asks.

Harry finally opens his eyes, meeting Louis’ gaze in the mirror. He feels silly for even worrying in the first place when he sees the look on Louis’ face. “Nothing. Just me being silly, is all. It’s probably the hormones or something, I don’t know.”

Louis keeps his gaze in the mirror for a few seconds more, before he’s turning his head to whisper in Harry’s ear, “Don’t you ever worry, love. I told you before that I’m never letting you go, right?”

“Yeah,” Harry breathes out, nodding, feeling Louis’ breath tickling at his ear.

“And you’re beautiful, okay? So fucking beautiful. Let me show you just how beautiful you are.”

Harry sucks in a breath. “Okay.”

Louis smiles at their reflection one final time before he’s pulling away, making Harry turn around and leading him towards their bed.

Harry pulls his shirt off all the way before laying down against the sheets, feeling Louis’ eyes on him the entire time. He flushes, cheeks tinged pink, and he bites his lip as he watches Louis slowly undress by the foot of their bed.

Harry doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the way Louis looks, torso toned and golden, littered with the dark ink of his numerous tattoos. Even at thirty-one, his biceps look strong and the muscles of his thick thighs look firm, and it overwhelms Harry sometimes to think that this man—this _boy_ in front of him—is his. Has been his for twenty-one years.

“I love you,” he breathes out, making Louis pause from where he’s hooking his fingers inside the waistband of his boxers.

He looks up at Harry with a soft smile, chin scruffy and hair getting too long, messily swept back from his forehead. Harry realizes then that he’s not the only one stressing out over his pregnancy, that it affects Louis too. It’s obvious by the bags under his eyes, by the few lines making their early appearance on his face—and that makes Harry realize that all of his worries from earlier are silly, because Louis is with him in this.

Louis is going to be with him every step of the way, even after this.

“I love you, too,” Louis says as he climbs on the bed, deciding to leave his boxers on for the meantime. He rubs his hands over Harry’s stomach, smiling down at the younger man. “Forever, yeah?”

It’s a cheesy thing to say, and Harry giggles, smiling up at Louis. “Of course.”

Louis leans down to press their lips together, kissing Harry slow and sweet, licking inside his mouth as though he wants to permanently have Harry’s taste on his tongue, as though he hasn’t done that already. All the while his hands remain moving, sliding up and down Harry’s sides, roaming across his chest and stomach, running down his arms. Harry’s already fuzzy mind is trying to catch up and process Louis’ touches all at once, trying to remember every little touch.

“Lou,” he whines once they break apart for air, trying to pull Louis back in when the older man pulls away completely.

Louis shushes him softly, smiling. “I’ll take care of you, don’t worry. Just—just lie back, yeah baby? Let me show you how much I love you.”

Harry nods shakily, shifting around and trying to make himself more comfortable against the pillows. Louis runs a hand through his hair, tugging softly at the strands and making Harry gasp. His hair really is getting too long now, becoming more wavy rather than curly, but Louis insists that Harry keep it that way, that it looks good on him. Harry isn’t really complaining, especially since Louis likes to tangle his fingers through his hair and massage his scalp.

“Just relax, yeah baby?” Louis whispers, and then he’s leaning down and pressing kisses down the length of Harry’s neck. Harry tilts his head back, moaning softly when Louis pauses to suck a mark.

He can feel himself reacting quickly to Louis’ touches, his cock already hardening in his pants, and it should be a bit embarrassing but all Harry can think of is the way Louis’ fingers feel spanning across the sides of his swollen tummy, the way Louis’ mouth feels against his skin.

Louis kisses down his chest, murmuring _so beautiful_ and _you’re perfect_ and _all mine_ against Harry’s skin, making the younger man flush. He’s careful and gentle, nipping at Harry’s collarbones and tracing the outline of the swallows on Harry’s chest with his tongue.

“I love you so much, yeah?” he murmurs, before he leans down further, circling his lips around Harry’s nipple and sucking. Harry arches at the touch, hands finding purchase on the sheets as Louis licks over his hardening nub.

“Lou,” he breathes out, shuddering when Louis pulls away slightly to blow hot air over his nipple. “I love you, too.”

Louis smiles briefly before he’s ducking his head and taking Harry’s other nipple into his mouth, giving it the same attention as the other one. Harry twists his hands into the sheets and shifts his hips minutely, seeking friction. He’s fully hard now, tenting his pants obscenely, and he just _needs_.

“Louis, I need—”

Louis shushes him gently with a kiss. Harry lets go of the sheets so he can reach up and twist his fingers into Louis’ hair, tugging slightly when Louis licks his way into his mouth. He lets Louis take full control of the kiss, whimpering softly when Louis bites down on his full lower lip.

Louis breaks away a moment later, pressing a trail of kisses down Harry’s body until he reaches Harry’s swollen tummy. He presses a kiss over the butterfly tattoo, murmurs, “I love your tummy, babe. I’ll continue loving it no matter how big it gets.” He runs his hand over the swell of Harry’s stomach, littering it with even more kisses. “And I love you for carrying our baby. You’re doing such a wonderful job. You’re wonderful.”

Harry flushes at that, throwing an arm over his face to hide his red cheeks. He feels Louis’ fingers close around his wrist, pulling his arm away, and then he’s staring up into Louis’ blue eyes.

Louis keeps the eye contact for a second longer before he brushes his lips over Harry’s knuckles, kissing the small cross inked on the crease between Harry’s forefinger and thumb. “Love your tattoos,” he says, dragging his lips towards the anchor, then further up. He makes sure to leave a kiss on each—the flower, the heart, the ship—and then further up until he’s pressing his lips against Harry’s shoulder, lingering there for a moment. “I love how you ink your life story on your body for everyone to see.”

“I just want everyone to know how much you mean to me,” Harry whispers, turning his head to the side so that he’s facing Louis.

Louis smiles at him. “I know, love.” He kisses Harry quickly on the lips, before he’s climbing back down Harry’s body. He’s still smiling when he says, “And these ferns, I really love them, too. I love everything about you, Harry.” He brushes his thumbs over the ferns tattooed along Harry’s hips, now also distorted. “Even if they get all stretched out I’d still think they’re beautiful. You’re always so beautiful, Harry.”

Harry feels like floating at the words coming out of Louis’ mouth. He thinks the only things keeping him down and grounded are Louis’ hands on him, touching him softly yet firmly, steadying him.

He’s broken from his thoughts by Louis tugging his pants off, finally freeing his cock. Harry’s almost forgotten about that, too caught up with Louis’ words and touches for a moment, but now that his attention’s been brought back to it he realizes that he’s aching, curving up towards his tummy. He whines, thrusting his hips up slightly.

“We’ll get there, love, don’t worry,” Louis says, running his hands up and down Harry’s thighs. He smiles. “I love your legs too, did you know that?” He spreads them apart, just enough so he can settle down in the space between them. “Love how they go on for miles. They’re so beautiful, just like every other part of you.”

“Louis,” Harry whines, cheeks flaming.

Louis noses along the crease between his thigh and groin, before finally scooting up a bit and taking the tip of Harry’s cock into his mouth. Harry sighs shakily in relief, melting back against the sheets as Louis takes him further into his mouth.

Louis doesn’t rush, wrapping his hand around the base of Harry’s cock and keeping his tongue on the head, lapping up the beads of precome leaking from Harry’s slit. He bobs his head slowly, twisting his fist around Harry’s base before pulling his hand away and taking Harry into his mouth the rest of the way down.

Harry groans once he feels himself hit the back of Louis’ throat, and he glances down to watch, but he can’t see anything past his stomach. He whines, frustrated, before trying to push himself up on his elbows so he can see. He’s unable to hold himself up for long, however, his arms trembling too much and his upper body feeling way too heavy for him to support.

Louis must have noticed—of course he does—because he pulls off, shooting Harry a concerned glance. “What’s wrong, love?”

“Can’t”—Harry has to clear his throat and try again—“can’t see you.”

Louis crawls up carefully, mindful of Harry’s tummy. “Scoot up a bit, love?” he asks, arranging the pillows against the headboard. “Now lean back, that’s it.”

Harry leans back against the headboard, propped up by the pillows. He spreads his legs further apart, and Louis kisses him on the lips once before going back down. Harry sighs, tangling his fingers through Louis’ hair as the older man takes him back into his mouth. Harry’s stomach is still mostly in the way, but at the very least he can see the bob of Louis’ head.

He groans, bucking his hips a little when he feels himself hit the back of Louis’ throat again. He tightens his fingers in Louis’ hair, fighting to keep his eyes open when Louis begins moving faster, sucking Harry down and fondling with his balls. He lets Harry buck lightly against his face, lets Harry’s cock slide deeper into his mouth, takes it all smoothly and easily.

Harry whines, throwing his head back when Louis’ fingers brush against his rim. His hips stop bucking for a second, legs falling open wider, inviting Louis to continue.

That’s when Louis pulls off, pressing a final kiss against the head of Harry’s cock before sitting up. Harry only realizes then that Louis’ also hard in his pants, the outline of his cock obvious through the fabric. He watches as Louis tugs his pants off, and Harry’s mouth waters at the sight of Louis thick and flushed.

“Louis,” he whines, sliding down so that he’s lying back against the bed instead of the headboard, spreading his thighs even further apart.

Louis presses a kiss against Harry’s forehead, before he’s reaching towards the nightstand. Harry takes the time to calm his already heavy breathing, chest rising and falling with each deep breath he takes. He watches through half-lidded eyes as Louis takes the bottle of lube out from their drawer, resting his hands on his stomach as he waits.

Louis uncaps the bottle, laying down on his stomach and pressing a kiss over Harry’s knee—over the spot where the scar used to be. The touch makes Harry’s breath hitch a little, makes him feel even more loved and cared for. He wonders if he’s physically glowing right now, if Louis can see just how special he feels in that moment.

He sucks in a breath when Louis’ wet fingers touch his rim, rubbing circles around his hole before slowly pressing two fingers inside, edging the tips in slowly. Harry whines and shifts his hips a little, and Louis slides his fingers in until the final knuckle. He thrusts them in and out slowly, gradually gaining speed as the volume of Harry’s moans increase.

Louis pushes up so he can watch Harry’s face as he opens him up. He twists his fingers on the way in, searching for Harry’s prostate. Harry lets out a soft moan when Louis’ fingers curl inside him and catch against his spot, making him arch away from the sheets. A soft laugh slips out of Louis’ lips, before he’s pressing a kiss against Harry’s forehead as he rubs circles over Harry’s prostate.

Harry can feel himself leaking, his toes curling and his eyes squeezing shut at the feeling. He whines when Louis pulls out and then squeezes a third finger on the way back in, and Harry feels like he’s going to burst if Louis doesn’t get inside him soon.

“Louis,” he manages to get out, throwing his head back when Louis keeps on rubbing over his prostate, pressing against it insistently. “Louis. I’m—god, I’m ready.”

“Shh, okay love. Calm down, yeah?” Louis says as he pulls his fingers out, wiping them off on the sheets.

Harry bends his knees, pressing his feet flat against the bed as he watches Louis spread lube over his cock. He smiles when Louis drops a kiss on his stomach, before he’s squeezing his eyes shut as Louis presses in slowly.

He feels full, stretched around Louis’ cock, and he takes a moment to just breathe, shifting his hips and gasping when Louis nudges a bit deeper inside. His eyes snap open when he hears Louis groan above him, whisper, “You feel so good, love.”

He just moans softly in response, and then Louis’ moving, pulling his hips back slowly and making Harry feel every inch of his cock as it drags against Harry’s insides. Harry clutches onto the sheets, enjoying the steady roll of Louis’ hips into him. Louis’ thrusts are slow and deep, punching breathy little moans out of him and making his toes curl into the sheets. He keens high in his throat when Louis presses in deep and keeps himself inside for a moment, rotating his hips in small circles. When he pulls back out, he resumes the steady pace of his hips.

Louis’ also being extra careful, Harry can tell—he’s making sure not to put any of his weight on Harry, keeping space between them so that Harry won’t have too much trouble breathing. He also keeps on smoothing his hands over the swell of Harry’s tummy, and Harry feels like crying.

“You’re so beautiful, Harry, so perfect,” Louis says, groaning at the end when Harry clenches around him. He presses his hips in deep again and pauses for a second. “I love you so much. You have no idea how perfect you are, how wonderful. You’re so lovely for carrying our babies, so lovely.”

Harry clenches his eyes shut for a moment, placing his hands over Louis’ on his stomach. “Lou.” It’s the only word he can say right now, because his throat feels too tight with emotion.

He loves Louis so much it’s overwhelming sometimes.

“We’re having babies, Haz,” Louis breathes out, and in that moment he sounds like he’s just realizing it, too, like it’s just sinking in. Harry can see it in the way Louis’ eyes widen slightly, lips quirking up at the corners. And then he’s laughing quietly, voice a bit strained when he says, “Oh god, Haz. We’re going to have kids.”

Harry smiles up at him, slotting his fingers in the spaces between Louis’. “Yeah, we are.”

Louis grins, the one that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners, and Harry feels like flying. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” he murmurs, before he’s shifting his hips slightly. “I really do, but if you don’t move soon I’m afraid I might die before I can even give birth.”

Louis laughs, bright and happy, and the sound of it makes Harry’s chest clench.

“We can’t have that now, can we?” Louis asks, and then he’s pulling back and pushing in without much warning. He quickens his pace just a little, still keeping his thrusts deep, making sure Harry can feel every inch of him.

Harry sighs happily, moaning softly when Louis shifts his hips slightly and the head of his cock manages to catch on Harry’s prostate. “There, Lou,” he stutters out on a breath, small sparks of pleasure shooting up his spine and spreading throughout him, all the way to the very tips of his fingers.

Louis nods once, and then he’s picking up the pace again, keeping his hips at that angle and thrusting in quicker. Harry throws his head back, mouth falling open. He can feel his cock leaking against his stomach but he ignores it, focusing instead on the feeling of Louis fucking into him, of Louis touching his swollen stomach, of Louis treating him as though he’s the most beautiful person in the world.

And to Louis, Harry definitely is. They both know that.

“I love you,” Louis breathes out, and it sounds like he’s only half-aware that he’s saying it, too caught up in the feeling of Harry clenching around him. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” he chants with each thrust of his hips.

Harry can feel his eyes filling up with tears, making his vision a bit blurry. He blinks the mist away, wanting to see Louis’ face, and the tears end up spilling out of the corner of his eyes. Louis notices immediately, and he takes one of his hands away from Harry’s stomach so he can brush away the tears.

“You’re the best thing to ever happen to me,” Louis whispers, quiet like it’s a secret when in fact everyone who’s ever seen them together knows. “I love you so much.”

“Louis,” Harry cries. He’s close, and his chest feels like it’s going to burst open, and his brain’s going a bit fuzzy with everything that he’s feeling. “I love you.”

Louis’ also close, thrusts getting a bit erratic, and Harry knows that he can get there without even touching himself, that he can topple over the edge with just this—with just Louis moving inside him and Louis whispering sweet words to him and Louis gently brushing away his tears.

When Harry comes, it’s with a cry of Louis’ name. He spills onto his stomach, untouched, and it only takes Louis a few more thrusts before he’s pressing in deep, spilling inside Harry and whispering _I love you_ and _you’re everything_ and _I can’t believe you’re still mine_.

-

“You’re glowing even more than last time,” Liam comments the moment Harry lets them inside.

Harry blushes at that, ducking his head so that they can’t see him smiling. “Yeah, well. Louis makes sure to keep me happy.”

“Ah,” Zayn says, moving past him and into the living room. “Explains why you look all loved-up.”

“Don’t you mean fucked-out,” Niall comments, cackling madly when Harry aims a slap at him and misses by an arm’s length. He runs into the living room after Zayn, still laughing and making Harry blush even harder, turning red to the roots of his hair.

Liam pats him on the shoulder, chuckling. “Just ignore Niall, yeah? You know he speaks whatever’s on his mind.” He squeezes Harry’s shoulder, smiles fondly at him. “But you really do look good, Harry. How are you feeling?”

Harry sighs, leaning against Liam’s side and placing his hands on his stomach. “Like I’m ready to give birth. As much as I love being pregnant, I’m just really ready to let the girls out.”

Liam wraps an arm around his shoulders, squeezing once and leading him towards the living room where they can already hear Niall and Zayn fighting over which movie to watch. “Just a few more weeks, yeah? You can do it.”

Harry just sighs again. He and Liam step into the living room to find Niall straddling Zayn on the floor, trying to grab for the remote Zayn is holding above his head. They both stop struggling when they spot Liam and Harry by the doorway.

“Oh, hey guys!” Niall beams. “Zayn won’t let me choose the movie!”

“You chose last time!” Zayn protests, pushing Niall off of him. “It’s my turn!”

Harry just shakes his head and sits on the couch that Louis bought especially for his pregnancy. He watches Liam try to calm things down between Niall and Zayn, but the blond is too busy trying to sneakily steal the remote away and Zayn is too preoccupied with making sure Niall won’t take it from him to pay Liam any attention. Harry smiles at the scene, leaning back against the couch and putting a hand over his stomach.

He’s gotten even bigger now, at almost eight months, and he’s having more and more trouble moving around the house. His feet hurt a lot and so do his hips and back. Louis can’t be there to look after him all the time because he still has to work, so that’s why Niall, Zayn, or Liam always makes sure to come over whenever possible so they can keep Harry company and tend to his needs.

Sometimes all three of them visit, like today, and it usually ends with the three of them drunkenly falling asleep in a pile on the living room floor, while Louis takes Harry upstairs and makes sure he gets some rest.

“Aha! I got it!” Niall exclaims, snapping Harry out of his thoughts. He looks up just in time to see the blond running around the room with Zayn awkwardly trying to chase him, protesting all the while about how it’s only fair that he get to choose what they’re gonna watch for today.

That’s how Louis finds them.

“Well, I hope you’re not stressing my husband out too much,” he says from the doorway of the living room, making everyone pause and look at him. He’s carrying a stack of papers to grade and he looks a bit stressed, but he’s smiling nonetheless. He steps into the living room and dumps the papers on the coffee table, rolling his shoulders back a couple of times before he’s leaning down to give Harry a quick kiss. “Hey there, love.”

Harry smiles, chasing Louis’ mouth for another kiss. Louis gives it to him, letting their lips press together for a second longer before he addresses the others.

“Have any of you lads ordered pizza at the very least?” he asks, sitting on the armrest of Harry’s couch and absentmindedly placing a hand on top of Harry’s stomach.

“I’m on it,” Liam says, pulling his phone from his pocket and dialing the pizza place.

“Pizza’s not good for the girls, Lou,” Harry protests.

Louis smiles at him, leaning down to press a kiss on top of Harry’s head. “I know, babe. You still have some fruit salad left in the fridge, and I’m gonna make you something else later. Maybe something simple from the cookbook Mum sent us. That sound good?”

Harry smiles, satisfied, before nuzzling his head against Louis’ side. Almost at the exact same time, he feels a kick against his stomach and he laughs, rubbing his hand over the spot. He feels another kick. “Now settle down, loves,” he tells his tummy, waving a finger over it mock-sternly. “You’ll get to come out soon. Don’t fuss around too much and give Daddy a hard time, okay?”

Louis slips down from the armrest, getting on his knees and placing his hand over Harry’s. “Come on girls,” he tells Harry’s tummy, “don’t make your Daddy grumpy.”

“They kicking?” Niall asks, crawling over and looking excitedly at Harry’s stomach. “Can I feel? Been a while since the last time.”

Harry nods, smiling. “Go ahead.”

Niall eagerly places his hand over Harry’s tummy, laughing when he feels a nudge almost immediately. “Now I don’t know which one of you just did that, but I can promise you both that I’m gonna be your favorite uncle ever.”

“Excuse me,” Zayn says, appearing beside Niall. He frowns at the blond. “ _I’m_ going to be their favorite uncle ever.”

“Lads, please,” Liam says, crouching down in front of Harry as well. “Let’s not fight over this. We don’t want a repeat of last time.”

“Yeah, Liam’s right,” Louis says, fondly rubbing his hand over Harry’s stomach. “And besides, we all know you’re all gonna spoil them either way.”

“True that,” Zayn agrees, cooing at Harry’s tummy when he feels a kick beneath his palm. “I’m so excited to see them.”

“Same,” Niall agrees, and Liam nods.

“We all are,” Louis chuckles, shaking his head a little. He presses a kiss over Harry’s stomach, before glancing up at the younger man. “You’re gonna be the perfect parent, you know that?”

Harry smiles, placing his hand on Louis’ cheek. “And so will you.”

-

A little over a month later, Harry finds himself sitting up on a hospital bed, feeling exhausted yet happier than ever. He’s holding little Jessica in his arms, while Louis’ sitting on the edge of his bed, cradling Jennifer. They both have tears in their eyes, but Harry’s positive that he looks even worse. He’s pretty sure his nose and eyes are both red from too much crying, and his stitch still hurts, but right now all he cares about are the perfect little girls in his and his husband’s arms.

Louis’ rocking little Jen back and forth, humming softly to her all the while, and Harry smiles at the sight of them. Louis catches Harry looking and he smiles, wider and brighter than Harry’s ever seen recently, despite the exhaustion in his blue eyes. He’s really happy, Harry can tell, and he just knows that this—the four of them in this delivery room—this is just the start of something really beautiful.

“How are you feeling?” Louis asks, voice soft and quiet.

Harry smiles even wider. “I’m feeling brilliant.”

Louis nods. “Yeah, same here.” He blinks, glances back down at Jen. “We’re actually starting our own family, Harry.”

“I know,” Harry says. It’s overwhelming, really, but also extremely exhilarating. He can feel tears springing into his eyes once more from just thinking about the fact that he’s really a parent now, that he and Louis are parents now. He laughs a watery laugh, looking down at little Jess. “We’re parents, Lou. We’re actually parents now.”

It’s then that the door opens and Niall steps in, immediately followed by Zayn, Liam, Anne, and Jay. They crowd around Harry and Louis, Niall and Zayn fussing over Jennifer while Jay, being a nurse herself, asks Harry how he’s feeling. Anne carefully takes Jessica from Harry, but not before kissing her son on the forehead and telling him how proud she is of him and how brave he is, while Liam politely waits for his turn to see the twins.

“What are their names, then?” Niall asks, cradling Jen and cooing at her.

“You’re holding little Jennifer Anne Tomlinson,” Louis answers, grinning. Harry catches sight of his mum smiling at the name.

“And this other precious little angel here?” Jay asks, carefully taking Jess from Anne.

Harry answers this time. “Jessica Johannah Tomlinson.”

Jay smiles.

“Who’s older?” Liam asks curiously, reaching for Jen, gasping when the baby wraps her fist around his finger. He looks a bit teary all of a sudden, and Harry can totally relate to the feeling.

Louis pats Liam on the back. “Jess is.”

Jay coos at Jess, who waves her tiny fist in the air for a short moment. Anne stands beside her and smiles lovingly at the baby, says, “Hi little Jessica. I’m grandma Anne.” Jess waves her fist again, as though in response to the sound of Anne’s voice, and Jay laughs.

“They’re going to be so spoiled.”

“Hell yeah they are,” Niall says, carefully passing Jen over to Zayn. “I’m already thinking of buying them all the stuffed animals in the world.”

“You don’t have to—” Harry begins to protest, but Niall cuts him off with a wave of the hand.

“Nah mate, s’alright. It’s my duty as, you know, favorite uncle and all.”

“Hey,” Zayn protests, but then Jen lets out a little cry and he gets a panicked look on his face, trying to shush the baby. Fortunately, Jen settles down quickly, flailing her fists in the air a bit before stilling in Zayn’s arms. Zayn lets out a relieved sigh before turning back to Niall with a glare. “I thought we talked about this. We’re _all_ gonna be their favorite uncles.”

“Nothing wrong with a little friendly competition,” Niall teases, cackling when Zayn aims a kick at him and misses. “You’re holding the baby! Careful.”

“My turn,” Liam pipes in, having recovered from Jen holding his finger. He wipes at his eyes and reaches for Jen. “C’mon Zayn, you’ve had your turn.”

Harry smiles to himself, leaning back against the headboard. Louis places a hand on his head and gently strokes through his curls, humming softly underneath his breath. Harry smiles at the comforting touch and closes his eyes, feeling incredibly happy, like he’ll never be sad ever again.

And, listening to the happy chattering around him, he thinks that’s probably true.

 

**Thirty-seven and Thirty-nine**

“Jess! Get back here young lady!”

Harry hears Jess’ squeal from upstairs, followed by the unmistakable sound of little footsteps running along the hall. It’s immediately followed by the heavier steps of his husband, obviously on another chase.

Harry sighs at this, setting three-year-old Daniel down on his high chair and giving him a stern look before walking out of the kitchen. He’s not even taken three steps out when he runs into Jen.

Harry yelps in surprise, Jen stumbling back a few steps but fortunately managing to remain on her feet. She’s only wrapped in a fluffy purple towel, her light brown hair still wet and dripping all over the floor from the shower she took earlier. Harry blinks down at her, before placing his hands on his hips. “And why aren’t you dressed yet, hm?”

Jen stares up at him, wide-eyed. “Papa’s too busy chasing after Jess because she doesn’t want to dry off, so I came down here to ask if you could help me put my clothes on?”

Thumping from upstairs, followed by Jess squealing with laughter and Louis saying, “Got you! Now where’s your sister?”

“She’s down here!” Harry yells, before crouching down so that he’s at eye-level with his daughter. “Daddy’s busy preparing lunch for you and Jess, honey. And I can’t leave Dan alone for too long, so can you go upstairs to Papa? Don’t give him too much of hard time, though, okay love?”

Jen nods, before turning around and running back up the stairs quickly. Harry gets up and walks back into the kitchen, where Dan is staring at the half-finished sandwiches lying on the kitchen counter. Harry grins and lifts his son up into his arms. “Are you hungry, love?”

Dan points at the sandwiches and says, “Want some.”

“But those are for your sisters, love. Maybe later, yeah?” Harry says, letting Dan sit on the counter. He goes back to preparing lunch, listening to the sounds of Louis trying to get the twins to cooperate into putting clothes on from upstairs.

Harry smiles to himself. Their daughters really got Louis’ penchant for mischief and causing trouble, especially Jess, and if anyone knows how to deal with them it’s Louis.

“Da,” Dan says, catching Harry’s attention. “Hungry.”

Harry smiles, cutting a small piece of bread and handing it to his son. “Here you go.”

Dan takes the bread happily and munches down on it, satisfied. Harry goes back to preparing his daughters’ lunch box, and it’s quiet for a moment. He smiles to himself, humming a tune underneath his breath, and then suddenly footsteps are running into the kitchen, accompanied by giggling. Harry glances over his shoulder and sees his twin daughters both dressed for school, followed by Louis who looks a bit miserable with his t-shirt all wrinkled up.

Harry giggles. “I’m guessing they put up a fight?”

Louis nods grimly. “Oh yes. Our daughters are gonna grow up to be really strong women, that thing’s for sure.”

“Papa! Fix my hair!” Jess suddenly demands, pointing to her hair.

Louis groans for about a minute straight, before he’s dragging himself out of the kitchen to probably get the hair dryer from upstairs. Harry shakes his head, smiling to himself. He puts the pancakes he made earlier onto a plate and slides it onto the table, in front of his daughters. “Now eat up. You need to have enough energy for your first day of school.” Of course, Harry thinks his daughters have more than enough energy in them as it is, but he can’t have them grow up skipping meals.

The twins begin digging into their plates just as Louis comes back. Harry gives him a quick kiss on the lips and Louis smiles. “They’re a right menace, aren’t they?”

Harry chuckles. “They get it from your side of the family, obviously.”

Louis grins. “I’m not even going to deny that.” He then sets to work, fixing Jen’s hair first while she eats. Jess, on the other hand, can’t seem to stop talking, even when her mouth is full.

“Do you think Jen and I are gonna make lots of friends? How are they gonna be able to tell us apart, though? And is there a playground? I like playgrounds. Daddy, didn’t you say you and Papa first met at a playground? Do you think I’ll meet my soulmate at a playground, too?”

Harry smiles at that, chest clenching a little at his daughter’s words. Anne and Jay have been the ones to tell the girls how they think Louis and Harry are soulmates, and since then both Jess and Jen have been keen on finding their own.

Harry walks over to Jess and wipes at the syrup that’s smeared over the corner of her mouth with his thumb. “Who knows, love?” he says, pinching his daughter’s cheek lightly. “Maybe you will.”

Jess seems happy with that answer, because she grins and goes back to eating.

“Oi, don’t go putting ideas in their head, Styles,” Louis says, and Harry looks up to see him fixing the green bows on Jen’s pigtails. “They’re only seven.”

“What? I was eight when we met,” Harry points out, before smirking. “And it’s _Tomlinson_ now, for the record. Has been for years.”

Louis rolls his eyes, but Harry can tell that he’s just teasing. “Fine, fine. Harry Tomlinson, then.”

“My turn, Papa!” Jess demands when she sees that Jen’s hair is done, waving her fork at Louis. “I want that, too, but with blue ribbons!”

Louis pretends to think about it for a moment, making his oldest daughter pout. Harry chuckles and goes back to packing lunch, and he turns just in time to see Dan reaching for one of the sandwiches. “Daniel! That is not for you, young man.”

Dan just stares at him with wide green eyes. He pulls his hand back after a moment, though, says, “Sorry Da.”

Harry chuckles, poking Dan in the tummy and making the little boy squeal with laughter. He bats at Harry’s hands, giggling, and Harry’s heart melts at the sound. “Pa! Help! Da giving tickles!”

Jess and Jen both giggle, and even Louis is chuckling. Harry lifts Dan up in his arms and presses a loving kiss against the little boy’s temple. Dan snuggles into his arms and, at that moment—with his daughters getting ready for school, with his son in his arms, and with his husband smiling at him—Harry thinks that he couldn’t ask for more.

-

For his thirty-eighth birthday, Harry takes his family on a trip back home.

The playground is no longer there, and in its place instead is part of a small park that’s apparently been built there some time five years ago. Harry’s a little sad about it, if he’s going to be honest. He wants to show his children the exact place where he and Louis first met, wants to tell them about it all over again while sitting by the foot of the slide.

Louis rubs his shoulders comfortingly. “There’s nothing we can do about it, love.”

Harry sighs, leaning his weight against Louis’ side. “I wanted the kids to see the slide I’m always telling them about.”

Louis squeezes his shoulders, pressing a kiss against Harry’s temple. “Don’t be too upset about it, yeah? It’s not good for the baby,” he says, placing his free hand over Harry’s tummy softly.

“I’m only five weeks pregnant, Lou,” Harry points out.

“Still,” Louis argues quietly, nudging Harry’s cheek with his nose, “I don’t want you to be upset on your birthday, love.”

Harry sighs. “Fine.” He leans back against the bench they’re sitting on, snuggling further into Louis’ side for warmth. It’s still cold, even though it’s not really snowing anymore. They shouldn’t stay out for too long, he thinks.

Louis hums, tugging on the few curls peeking out of Harry’s wooly hat. “Did you ever think we’d end up like this?”

Harry glances up at the question. Louis’ not looking at him, though, and is instead staring straight ahead of them where Harry can hear Jen playing with her aunts Phoebe and Daisy. Harry also looks in front of him, just in time to see Dan squeal with laughter as Fizzy lifts him in the air while Lottie and Gemma take pictures of everyone. He can see Zayn sitting on the wet grass with his sketchbook open on his lap, pencil moving delicately over the paper, can see Niall running around after Jess and Liam smiling at the scene as he stands a bit to the side.

“Not really,” he finally answers Louis, smiling to himself. “I mean, when I was fourteen and you first kissed me right in this very spot, I hoped that we wouldn’t be one of those childhood sweethearts that wouldn’t work out in the end.” He takes Louis’ free hand in his, twines their fingers together. “And when I was sixteen I thought, I wanted this to last forever. A part of me was scared that we wouldn’t last, yes, but.” He pauses for a moment, bites on his lip.

“But?” Louis asks gently, urging him to continue.

Harry lifts their joined hands and brushes his lips over Louis’ knuckles. “But another part of me just _knew_ , I guess, that you and I would make it. I mean, this feels different, doesn’t it?” He breathes out for a moment, squeezes Louis’ hand in his. “I love you so much, it should scare me a bit, the things I’m willing to do and go through for you, but it just. Everything just feels right with you.”

Louis squeezes his hand back, silently telling Harry that he feels the same.

Harry smiles. “And just, I’ve never really given much thought to soulmates and fate, but everyone seems pretty convinced that we’re destined for each other. How cheesy is that, yeah?” He chuckles, shaking his head slightly. “But maybe we are, I guess? Who knows, really? All I know is that I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember.”

“I know the feeling,” Louis whispers.

Harry smiles a bit wider. “Yeah. So I hoped that we’d end up like this, with our own family, but I never really _expected_ it to happen, I guess.”

He looks at Louis, meets his eyes. “And I’m so happy that it did happen—that it’s _happening_. I’m so happy that I’m here with you right now. I have everything I could ever ask for, and even more.” He kisses Louis briefly, trying to keep his emotions in check since his eyes are fogging up a little. “We have our own family, Lou. We have two beautiful daughters and a beautiful son, and we have another one on the way. We have our parents and sisters supporting us every step of the way. We have three best friends who stood with us through everything.” He closes his eyes, leans forward so that his forehead presses against Louis’, their noses brushing. “I’m just so, _so_ happy, and I—I love you so much.”

It’s silent for a few delicate seconds. When Louis speaks, he sounds a bit teary as well. “I love you too, Harry. With all of my heart. You’re always in my heart.” He gives Harry a kiss, soft and gentle and filled with everything he wants to say but has too little words for. “Happy birthday.”

Harry laughs, feeling tears slipping out of his eyes despite trying to keep them in. He blinks, running a thumb underneath his eye and sniffing. “God, we’re so cheesy.”

Louis just chuckles in agreement.

“Daddy! Papa!”

They look up suddenly, breaking out of the temporary bubble they’ve caught themselves in just in time to catch the twins who literally make a leap into their laps. Harry lets out a breath at the sudden added weight, but he laughs nonetheless, letting Jen squirm on his lap for a moment before he’s pulling her closer to his chest. Beside him, Louis is tickling Jess, making the older twin squeal.

Dan stumbles over to them as well, lifting his arms and demanding to be carried. Louis chuckles and shifts his hold on Jess so he can lift Dan up onto his lap, too.

“Family picture!” Jess yells, and Jen claps her hands together in agreement.

Gemma approaches them with the camera, smiling. Harry shifts closer to Louis carefully so that Jen doesn’t slip from his lap. Louis does the same, leaning towards his husband while holding onto Jess, while Dan squeezes in between the twins, smiling his widest smile.

And at that moment—as Gemma lifts the camera and counts to three, as Louis’ sisters stand and watch them with smiles on their faces, as their friends look on fondly, as Jess and Jen make silly faces at the camera, as Dan lets out a bubbly laugh, and as Louis’ arm brushes against his—at that moment, Harry thinks that everything is just absolutely perfect.

-

And perfect it will stay.

_~_

_In these coming years, many things will change  
But the way I feel will remain the same_

**Author's Note:**

> There you go! This fic is my baby, and I feel a bit emotional about it to be honest. It took me three days of planning, making an outline to follow (something I never do, so that alone says how much effort I’ve put into this piece), and a solid month of writing to finish (not including the final editing once it’s been beta’ed). I’ve sent this to three people to look over, and they’ve all been incredibly lovely and supportive, so I really can’t thank them enough!
> 
> Also, the song Louis sang for Harry was—yep, you guessed it—‘Look After You’ by The Fray. Oh, and my tumblr will be added in the notes once authors are revealed, by the way! Thank you for reading, loves. :)
> 
>  **EDIT:** as promised, here is my [tumblr](http://black-and-scarlet.tumblr.com/)! also my [twitter](https://twitter.com/MarchieTheHare). send me some love? or not, no pressure babes :)
> 
> huge thanks to everyone who read this! i honestly did not expect people to like this fic so much, so really, thank you!


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